


Kissing Costs Extra

by theressomanyusernames



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Attempt at Humor, Fake/Pretend Relationship, M/M, Underage Drinking, eridans parents
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-13
Updated: 2016-08-24
Packaged: 2018-07-23 19:59:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 10
Words: 28,883
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7477902
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/theressomanyusernames/pseuds/theressomanyusernames
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“Christ, your family is fucked up. You don’t even need me to make a fucking mess. You could do it yourself.”</p>
<p>“Yes, but I want to make the mess a spiteful and gay mess. I need you to do that.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I've already written the whole thing and I'll have it uploaded by the end of this week :) depending on how much you guys like it I might upload a second part, but that's not written yet. Comments and kudos always appreciated! (The first chapter is entirely in text messages but most of the story isn't FYI)

CA: hey kar

 

CA: howw are you

 

CA: thats really great to hear

 

CA: me? im doin great thank you so much for asking

 

CA: i bought a neww plant yesterday hes doin well

 

CA: hes a cactus in case you wwere wwonderin or anythin

 

CA: goes nice wwith the rest a my plants

 

CA: havent givven him a name yet

 

CA: any idea im thinkin somethin classy like franco

 

CA: i can call him frank for short

 

CA: thats great thanks kar

 

CA: anythin neww in your life lately

 

CG: FOR THE EVER FUCKING LOVE OF CHRIST ERIDAN WHAT THE HELL DO YOU WANT?

 

CA: ahaha there he is

 

CG: HUMOR ME FOR ONCE AND COME OUT WITH WHATEVER YOU ACTUALLY WANT TO SAY. YOU NEVER TALK ABOUT YOUR AWFUL DICTATOR PLANTS UNLESS YOU ARE AVOIDING ANOTHER EVEN MORE HORRENDOUS TOPIC. GOD YOURE FUCKING TASTELESS WITH YOUR PLANT NAMES. PLANTS DONT EVEN NEED NAMES, SHIT FOR BRAINS. THEYRE FUCKING PLANTS.

 

CG: YOU KNOW WHAT JUST TELL ME WHAT YOU WANT BEFORE I GET SUCKED INTO YOUR PEDANTIC SEMI-SOCIOPATHIC BOTANIC SHIT SPIRAL.

 

CA: wwoww you really know me kar

 

CA: yeah i guess im stallin (stalin?) here

 

CA: because i havve like

 

CA: i havve a *really* awwkwward favvor to ask you

 

CG: IM NOT GOING TO BLOW YOU.

 

CA: okay first of all please stop bringin that up tenth grade wwas a bad time for evveryone

 

CA: and second its not directly invvolvvin you

 

CG: THEN WHY IS IT SO DIFFICULT TO ASK ME FOR THIS GODDAMN FAVOR THAT APPARENTLY DOESNT EVEN AFFECT ME ANYWAYS?

 

CA: alright im just gonna preface this by askin a question then

 

CA: do you knoww any dudes wwho can be painfully obnoxious and annoyin on cue and are also in desperate need of cash

 

CG: WOW EVEN I NEVER THOUGHT YOUD TURN TO HIRING A FUCKING PROSTITUTE. GUESS I OWE SOLLUX FIVE BUCKS. THOUGH I ADMIT YOUR TASTES ARE STRANGER THAN I THOUGHT THEY WOULD BE. DO YOU ALSO HAVE REQUIREMENTS FOR WHAT DISEASES THEY SHOULD BE CARRYING?

 

CA: wwait no thats not wwhat im askin at all

 

CA: wwell not really like i dont wwant to pay someone to bloww me

 

CA: also wwhos sollux and wwhy is he takin bets on wwhether or not i hire prostitutes

 

CG: DID I NEVER MENTION SOLLUX TO YOU? HES A GUY I MET IN ONE OF MY CLASSES WHO I SORT OF BECAME FRIENDS WITH. AND SORT OF TOLD A LOT OF STORIES ABOUT YOU TO. SORRY.

 

CA: i get it im interestin. i make for an interestin story i guess ill take it as a compliment

 

CG: YOU KNOW NOW THAT I THINK ABOUT IT THAT GUY ACTUALLY FITS THE DESCRIPTION FOR YOUR AMBIGUOUS PROSTITUTION FAVOR ALMOST EXACTLY. HES ONE OF THE MOST HONEST TO GOD ANNOYING PIECES OF SHIT I HAVE EVER MET IN MY LIFE. HE EVEN HAS A FUCKING LISP TO COMPLETE THE ASININE PACKAGE. IF THAT WASNT ENOUGH FOR YOUR INCREDIBLY HIGH STANDARDS, ONE TIME I PAID HIM TWO DOLLARS TO EAT A CHEETO OFF THE SIDEWALK AND HE FUCKING DID IT WITHOUT SO MUCH AS A SINGLE MOMENT OF HESITATION.

 

CA: wwoww im swwoonin

 

CA: you wwanna givve me his number

 

CG: WAIT JUST A COCKSUCKING MINUTE AMPORA. YOU NEVER TOLD ME WHAT YOU NEED HIM FOR.

 

CA: youre just tryin to make me do shit i dont wwanna do tonight arent you

 

CA: anywways remember howw i came out to my family a few months ago

 

CG: YEAH. HOW DID THAT GO ANYWAYS?

 

CA: lets just say theres a reason i didnt bring it up till noww

 

CA: long story short they wwere all fuckin assholes about it but they didnt cut me off or anythin awful like that

 

CA: so my mom wwanted to make amends or somethin i dont knoww she wwas probably genuinely tryin to be nice noww that i think about it but anywways she invited me to come home and havve dinner wwith the family but you see

 

CA: i wwas just tryin to be spiteful and i wwasnt thinkin that clearly so i told her i wwas bringin a boyfriend and she didnt wwant to alienate me again i guess so she just said alright and hung up on me

 

CA: kar i cant fuckin back out noww

 

CG: OKAY.

 

CG: OKAY, YOU KNOW THE WHOLE FAKE DATING THING IS SUCH AN OVERUSED ROMANCE TROPE. YOU KNOW THAT RIGHT? LIKE THERE ARE THOUSANDS OF HOLLYWOOD ASSHOLES THAT ARE PAID MORE CASH THAN YOUR FATHER COULD EVEN IMAGINE PUTTING HIS GRUBBY HANDS TO COME UP WITH THIS SORT OF SHIT?

 

CA: dont have an aneurysm i dont want to pg-13 marry your disgusting lispy friend i just wwanna spite my homophobic parents

 

CG: STILL THE SMELL OF THIS IRONY IS JUST TOO FUCKING PUNGENT TO IGNORE.

 

CA: god your gross

 

CA: so can i havve that kids number noww

 

CG: WHAT ABOUT I JUST SHOOT THE IDEA BY HIM TOMORROW? I DONT WANT TO FREAK HIM OUT TOO MUCH.

 

CG: HOW MUCH MONEY SHOULD I TELL HIM?

 

CA: i didnt think that far

 

CA: howw poor is he

 

CG: ERIDAN.

 

CA: okay wwait fuck i didnt mean it like that you knoww that

 

CA: just

 

CA: wwhat is the littlest sum of money i could get awway wwith offerin him to do me this monumental favvor

 

CG: ERIDAN YOURE DISGUSTINGLY RICH JUST GIVE ME A PRICE AND STOP BEING A PRICK.

 

CA: okay yeah im rich but i dont wwant my dad to notice me wwithdraww 5000 dollars or somethin and ask me wwhere it wwent

 

CA: would he do it for 150

 

CG: I DONT KNOW, MAYBE?

 

CA: alright you can bargain wwith him but just dont go ovver 500

 

CA: id prefer if you stayed under 300 though

 

CG: ALRIGHT.

 

CG: GOD THIS ALL FEELS KIND OF DIRTY.

 

CG: DO YOU HAVE A TIME AND DATE?

 

CA: next friday probably around four if his classes are done

 

CA: its about and hour and a half drivve both ways dinner so best case scenario wwere back by 9

 

CA: if my mom makes us stay the night ill givve him an extra 200 on top of wwhatevver i end up payin already

 

CA: but please make it clear thats like a 1 in 500 chance that wwill happen cause if he does his job right then theyre gonna wwant to get rid of us as soon as absolutely possible

 

CG: OKAY IM NOT GUARANTEEING ANYTHING, BUT IF HES UP FOR IT ILL GIVE HIM YOUR NUMBER TOMORROW. HE TYPES LIKE A TOOL YOULL KNOW WHO IT IS.

 

CA: more of a tool than ter?

 

CG: DEBATABLY, YES.

 

CA: alright im lookin forwward to it.

 

CA: night

 

CG: GOODNIGHT.

 

CG: STOP NAMING YOUR PLANTS AFTER EUROPEAN DICTATORS.

 

____________________________________

 

TA: 2o ii hear that youre wiilliing two pay 2omeone exuberant amount2 of ca2h two be obnoxious and generally diifiicult two be around. 

 

CA: kar wwas right you do type like a tool

 

TA: that2 no way two talk two a 2tranger who2 who2 doiing you a huge favor.

 

CA: wwell thats no fuckin attitude to have wwith someone wwhos payin you an exuberant amount of cash

 

TA: touche.

 

TA: how much were you payiing agaiin?

 

CA: kar didnt tell you?

 

TA: nope

 

CA: 150

 

TA: you cheap fuck kk told me 250. 450 iif ii have two 2tay over.

 

CA: wwoww so that was just a gotcha moment okay

 

CA: you really are obnoxious

 

TA: ehehe you douche.

 

CA: any other details kar “forgot” to tell you about?

 

CA: you havve the time an date for evveythin?

 

TA: next friiday at four dont worry ii already marked iit. 

 

CA: alright so thats that

 

TA: yeah

 

CA: yep

 

TA: 2o what2 your famiily liike and what wiill pii22 them off

 

CA: oh

 

CA: my dads a terrifyin business mogul who represses his emotions my moms a traditional housewwife wwho wwishes she did more wwith her life and my brothers just a douche

 

CA: and i dont knoww i wwas hopin to mostly givve you creativve liberty on that

 

CA: my family has alwways been rich as fuck so just act like you wwere raised in a barn

 

TA: ii2 that code for “act liike youre poor”?

 

CA: uh

 

TA: hey iit2 fiine iim not here two make everla2tiing friiend2hiip2 ba2ed on mutual re2pect iim here two make money. ii can sacriifiice a liittle priide and act liike ii dont know how two use a fork.

 

CA: okay yeah that kind of thinkin is good youre off to a good start

 

CA: if theres pasta be sure to eat it wwith your hands

 

TA: can do.

 

CA: just do wweird shit like that and itll be great

 

TA: okay ii have two more que2tiion2 then ii thiink ii can ju2t wiing iit from there.

 

CA: alright go for it dude

 

TA: number one what2 our made up 2tory

 

TA: iie how diid we meet how long have we been datiing etc.

 

CA: lets just say wwe havve some classes together and that wweve been together for twwo months

 

TA: alriight iim gonna need you two wriite out an iin-depth 2tory by next friiday so ii actually have 2omethiing two actually work wiith. ii can be embara22iing a2 hell a2 long a2 you put iin 2ome effort two.

 

CA: yeah alright thats fair you can read it during the car ride and get all caught up on our nonexistent history together

 

CA: wwhats your second question

 

TA: are there goiing two be dii2play2 of phy2iical affectiion iinvolved?

 

CA: uh

 

CA: i mean

 

CA: wwe gotta make it look real

 

CA: wwill that cost extra or something

 

TA: ii dont know yet.

 

CA: wwhat do you mean you dont knoww

 

TA: ii mean there2 a lot of factor2 involved. liike are you hot? iive never actually 2een you de2piite all the 2torie2 iive heard from kk. 

 

CA: oh my god

 

CA: *caligulasAquarium sent a photo*

 

TA: ehehehe holy 2hiit ii wa2 kiiddiing about the “are you hot” part. not bad though, con2iideriing your per2onaliity.

 

CA: thanks

 

CA: anywways now that youvve thoroughly trolled me and also managed to call me mildly attractivve are you going to charge extra for physical stuff or not

 

TA: okay how about thii2: 2tuff like hand holdiing or shoulder touchiing ii2 iincluded iin the 250 dollar package, huggiing or weiird shiit liike face touching ii2 an extra fiive each tiime, and kii22iing ii2 ten dollar2 each tiime.

 

TA: youre lucky iif you were ugly that would all co2t double.

 

CA: jesus christ now i really do feel like im hiring a prostitute

 

TA: kk owe2 me fiive buck2 for real now.

 

CA: or as a counter deal i just givve you an extra 20 to nevver tell him about the vvanilla prostitution part evver

 

TA: okay deal

 

TA: 2o weve agreed now that priiciing is 270 (iincludiing the 20 iin briibe money) +5 for any iintiimate sort of gesture2 +10 for any mouth two mouth contact and +200 iif the weather fuck2 u2 over or 2omethiing and ii have two 2leep there.

 

CA: yeah fine

 

CA: if it goes ovver 500 i cant pay you all at once though

 

TA: a2 long a2 ii get iit eventually.

 

TA: are we done here?

 

CA: yeah see you next friday

 

TA: see ya.

 

____________________________________

 

CA: hey me again so i wwas sitting dowwn to make up a story about howw wwe met and evverythin and i wwas havvin some wwriters block because i realized that i dont knoww a thing about you besides the fact that you are loosely acquainted wwith a friend of mine from high school and are wwillin to act morally dubious for large sums of cash

 

TA: ii can play along wiith any bull2hiit 2tory you want two tell your parent2.

 

CA: yeah i get that but i wwant to make it at least a little bit fuckin believable i mean i dont wwanna tell them youre a history major and then find out oh wwait this guy knowws absolutely nothin about history at all

 

TA: wouldnt that be funny though?

 

CA: in theory yeah a little bit but i also dont want them to figure out that your persona is literally entirely fabricated

 

TA: man youre undere2tiimatiing my bull2hiittiing 2kiill2.

 

TA: iim iin the engineeriing program wiith kk. Aero2pace.

 

CA: alright im a history major so ill just say that we met in a fuckin gen ed class or something i dont knoww

 

CA: do you have a family

 

TA: no.

 

CA: oh im so sorry fuck

 

TA: eriidan.

 

TA: of course ii have a famiily.

 

CA: you dick some people dont

 

CA: anywways tell me about your shitty livvin family

 

TA: my mom2 a hou2ewiife but 2he ha2 a baking busiine22 on the 2iide and my dad2 a piilot. iive got an older brother but he moved cro22 county wiith hii2 gf pretty recently.

 

CA: god i wwish my brother wwould movve cross country

 

TA: hey dont be an a22hole ii actually liike my brother.

 

CA: no offense to your brother im just sayin mine sucks

 

TA: whatever any more que2tiion2?

 

CA: do you have hobbies

 

TA: no.

 

CA: yeah you do you sarcastic piece of shit

 

TA: okay yeah ii liike codiing and programmiing outer 2pace retro cla22iic nerd 2hiit viideo game2 and con2piiracy theoriie2.

 

CA: dont tell me youre part a the tinfoil hat crowwd

 

TA: nah ii just thiink con2piiraciie2 are funny a2 hell but ii can totally pretend two be iif your famiily would be put off by that.

 

CA: ahah yeah definitely go off about conspiracies at some point

 

TA: whiich one there2 2o many good one2

 

CA: surprise me

 

TA: alriight are we done here

 

CA: yeah

 

CA: wwait one more thing

 

TA: ?

 

CA: can i havve a picture of you for reference

 

TA: *twinArmageddons sent a photo*

 

CA: holy shit

 

CA: ahaha holy shit this is fuckin great

 

TA: ii know iim hot but you dont have two be 2o creepy about thii2.

 

CA: no its not that but promise not to be insulted

 

TA: hey 2ay whatever you want. iim not here for re2pect ba2ed friend2hiip2, remember?

 

CA: okay my family is lowwkey racist theyre gonna flip wwhen i bring home an asian dude this is too good

 

CA: if you dont mind me askin what uh

 

CA: wwhat kind of asian are you

 

TA:okay ii take what ii saiid before back iim 2liightly iin2ulted.

 

CA: okay sorry listen each time someone in my family says somthin blatantly and irredeemably racist ill givve you another 5

 

TA: make iit ten and ii get two be the judge of what qualiifiie2 a2 blatant and iiredeemable.

 

CA: youre just doin this cause you knoww im in too deep to go shoppin around for anyone else at this point

 

TA: damn right. 2o we have a deal?

 

CA: yeah

 

CA: but also wwhats up wwith the 3d glasses

 

TA: dont worry about iit

 

CA: as long as you wwear them on friday i wwont

 

TA: alriight ii can do that. ii look forward two reading your work.

 

CA: wwhatevver man see ya friday

 

TA: bye.

TA: btw iim iindiian.


	2. Chapter 2

TA: ii2 there anything 2peciifiic that ii 2hould wear

 

CA: my family is relativvely formal so probably somethin profoundly awful

 

TA: ii can do that. liike what?

 

CA: you mentioned you wwere into retro nerdy shit do you havve any shitty t shirts correlatin to that interest

 

TA: ii have two 2tar trek 2hiirt2 that i wear two 2leep 2ometiime2.

 

CA: alright just put on wwhichevver one looks shittier and maybe jeans wwith holes in them

 

CA: ill loan you a suit jacket and a tie that wwould be pretty funny

 

TA: whatever you 2ay, man. anythiing el2e 2peciial ii 2hould briing?

 

CA: not unless youre plannin on usin props

 

CA: wwhich i wwould not be opposed to

 

TA: iill thiink about iit. where 2hould ii meet you two go?

 

CA: if you livve on campus i can just swwing by and pick you up there

 

TA: yeah ii liive iin a dorm

 

CA: wwoww great information wwhich one

 

TA: skaiia.

 

CA: shit wwhere is that

 

TA: iit2 over on the ea2t 2iide of campus where all the tech cla22e2 are.

 

CA: oh yeah im not ovver there much

 

CA: ill find it though probably just look out for a silvver mercedes

 

TA: damn iif youre driiviing a mercede2 maybe ii shouldve pushed for 2ome hiigher priice2. now racii2m co2t2 fiifteen dollar2.

 

CA: wwait no its not like i have all the money immediately at my fuckin disposal

 

CA: its mostly handouts from my dad

 

CA: please dont make me go into debt just for bein spiteful im already probably gonna havve givve you twwo payments

 

TA: fiine you freeloader racii2m wiill contiinue two co2t only ten dollar2. iit2 a 2teal eiither way, u2ually people dont pay me anythiing after beiing racii2t.

 

CA: wwoww thats kind of dark

 

CA: we can talk about final pricing after this is ovver alright? I just wwanna make sure it all goes smoothly right noww

 

TA: whatever you 2ay. iil be out2iide my dorm around four. ju2t look for the a2iian kiid iin a beat up 2tar trek 2hiirt and 3d gla22e2.

 

____________________________________

 

You pull up in front of his dorm at approximately 4:02 p.m. This place is so far deep into the tech part of campus, you don’t even remember seeing it before, despite the fact that you’ve been a student here for slightly less than two semesters. It looks to be one of the nicer dorms, in any case.

 

Just as promised, Sollux is waiting in out front in an ugly nerdy t-shirt, some seriously worn looking jeans and those ridiculous fucking glasses. You have to hand it to him for not even brushing his hair. You might even stop to buy something like cornflakes to put in his hair, or would that be going a little too far? After all, you want this to be believable. If he were really your boyfriend, you wouldn’t let him leave food in his hair before meeting your parents. You honk so he looks up from his phone.

 

As he climbs into the passenger seat, he says, “I’m kind of afraid I’ll burst into flames if I’m in here too long. Too luxe for me.”

 

“Shut up,” you mutter. You reach into the backseat as he closes his door, and you hand him a repurposed blue folder labeled “French”. 

 

“What’s this?”

 

“You asked me to write you a backstory. It’s in there.”

 

Without responding further, he cracks it open. You feel irrationally afraid of your writing being terribly scrutinized by him. It’s not like you care what he thinks, or that you actually tried to write a good piece of literature, but you’re naturally insecure about your work, no matter its nature. While trying not to focus on him, you begin to drive. “Alright,” he says after a few minutes, “I tutored you in chemistry, that’s a nice touch. The coffeeshop bit is cute. The first kiss part is too picturesque… I propose adding that a bird shit on your head directly afterwards.”

 

“Why can’t the bird have shit on your stupid head?”

 

“I don’t know, it doesn’t matter. I can’t be the butt of every single joke, here. This isn’t real, anyways.”

 

You turn onto the main street of the city, only semi-aware of the fact that you blew past a stop sign. “Yeah, I know that, I still don’t like the thought a birds shitting on my head. Tell ‘em I had garlic breath or somethin’.”

 

“The bird shit is comedy gold, though. Garlic breath is played-out.”

 

“Alright, whatever. If it comes up you can tell that story how you want. I doubt it will even fuckin’ come up.”

 

From the corner of your eye, you see him smile. It pisses you off a little bit. He continues, “Alright, the piano part was fine, do you really play the piano?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“So that one wasn’t a complete lie. Nice one on that. The only part I have a problem with is the Temple part. I mean, I’m not a Hindu. Did you just assume that because I said I was Indian?”

 

For a moment you seize up, but try not to look like you’re nervous. That’s exactly what you did. He said he was Indian, and you just assumed he was a Hindu. “No,” you lie, “I assumed I had some creative liberty to piss my parents off.”

 

“Alright,” he says skeptically, “but just be warned I don’t know the first thing about Hinduism. My immediate family is full of atheists and all of my relatives are either Muslims or Christians.”

 

“They have Christians in India?” you ask without thinking.

 

“Well, yes, some, but the Christians are on my mom’s side. I’m mixed, shitloard.”

 

“Sorry.”

 

“You owe me another ten for this conversation.”

 

You shake your head, “Yeah, alright. Whatever.” You try not to think about how you managed to get 10 dollars added to the tab before he even met your family (280). “You don’t have to talk about the fake religion part if you don’t want to. I’m just saying my family doesn’t know the first thing about religions that aren’t Christianity, and they wouldn’t be able to tell if you were bullshittin’ as long as it remained within the realm of reason.”

 

“Alright, I’ll think about it.” He picks at his nails for a moment, before turning his head to focus on something outside of the window. “What’s your favorite color?”

 

“Why the hell do you want to know somethin’ as inane as that?”

 

“I don’t know, it just seems like something someone who’s been dating you for two months would know.”

 

“Well, yeah, of course, but it’s not like it’s going to come up in conversation.”

 

“You never know. Sometimes stuff like that just does, man. You can’t predict what boring facts I’m going to need to know about your life tonight.”

 

You sigh. “It’s purple. And yours is?”

 

“Yellow. Alright, favorite animal?”

 

You speed up to get through a yellow light, making Sollux cling slightly to the side of the car. Hey, it’s not your fault. Not everyone is born with the time and patience required to be a safe driver. “Is this just goin’ to turn into a lighting round of exchangin’ boring facts about our lives?”

 

“I don’t see what else we would be doing.”

 

“I figured you’d be starin’ into your phone.”

 

“No way, I’m already at 40 percent.”

 

“Alright, seahorses.”

 

“Interesting. I like lizards.” You see him visibly relax as you slow the car back down. He adds, almost as an afterthought. “And bees.”

 

“Who the hell likes bees?” you ask, “or lizards for that matter?”

 

“Hey, both are vital to this planet. I’m not judging you for liking seahorses.”

 

“Why would you? Seahorses are fuckin’ great.”

 

You hear him audibly exhale. You wonder if he contemplated fighting you about that statement, and decided against it. “Alright, where were you born?”

 

“Glasgow.”

 

“You’re Scottish?”

 

“Half. My dad has an accent.”

 

He laughs, or makes a noise that sounds sort of like a laugh, and says, “I’m from Toledo.”

 

Again, you see Sollux lean back in his seat when you speed up to enter the highway. At least he’s not like Karkat, who yells at you whenever you go so much as one mile over the speed limit. Some cars were just made to go fast. To break the silence, you say, “See, I don’t know how you expect to remember all this. I’ve already forgotten your favorite color.”

 

“It’s yellow, but it doesn’t matter if you bullshit stuff about me because your family doesn’t know me. And I won’t forget, I have a good memory.”

 

“Good or really good?”

 

“What does that mean?”

 

“Can you remember what you had for lunch last year on February 25th?”

 

If you weren’t pretty focused on the highway, you bet you could’ve seen him roll his eyes. His response, dripping with disdain, is enough for you though. “I don’t think anyone can do that. I mean, unless you sit down and say, yes, I am specifically going to remember this moment. People just don’t remember stupid stuff if they don’t try to.”

 

“They do if they have a photographic memory. That’s a thing.”

 

Again, you hear him slowly inhale and exhale, as if you were taxing his patience so unbearably. He should put up with you, anyways. So far you’re already going to make him 280 dollars richer. He explains, “Okay, I have an eidetic fucking memory, and I can tell you for a fact that I cannot tell you what I ate for lunch on February 25th of last year. Now we can either continue with the icebreaker activities so I can memorize boring facts about you, or you can sit there and listen to me recite pi to 500 digits. It’s your call, man.”

 

You’re silent for a moment. “I’m almost certain there is someone out there who could tell me what they ate for lunch last year.”

 

“Well, I’m not one of them. What are you studying for your major?”

 

“My specialization is in European history, even more specifically English and Celtic history.”

 

The two of you proceed to go back and forth for a while, attempting to gasp the basics of each other’s boring lives. You remember bits and pieces of the more interesting things he says, you’re sure he remembers everything you say. You wonder if, even though he didn’t try to memorize what he had for lunch last year, if he will be able to recall the entire conversation verbatim, or if he will just be able to remember the facts. It must be strange inside of his head, but, then again, it would be strange for you inside any head that isn’t yours. You think, though, that his may be especially strange.

 

“Okay,” he says, putting one foot up on the dashboard, “So now that I know about your personal preferences, why don’t you clue me in on some of the family drama. Maybe I could start something, if you want.”

 

“I don’t know, if I had to take a wild guess, I’d say the main drama tonight is going to be the fact that the gay son who they still think can choose to be not gay is goin’ to talk to them for the first time in about three months, and is also is bringin’ home and incredibly disgusting and obnoxious fake boyfriend. Get your fuckin’ foot off there.”

 

He complies, reluctantly. “Wait, they think you can choose to be gay?”

 

“Did Kar not tell you why I was willin’ to pay you for this in the first place?”

 

Sollux shrugs. “Eh. I asked him and he just told me that you guys had a ‘complicated family dynamic.’”

 

You smirk. “Yeah, that about sums it up. All you need to know is that I came out three months ago, they took it about as badly as I expected they would, and I’m usin’ you as a way to spite my mom’s attempt at tryin’ to make it up to me.”

 

“That’s… uh. That’s rough.”

 

“No, it’s not that bad if you put it into perspective. My family’s always been cold and awful like that. At least fuckin’ Cronus will give them grandchildren. I mean, if he ever actually gets a girl to sleep with him.” In a half-baked attempt to be deep, you mutter, “Money doesn’t buy happiness.”

 

Almost instantly Sollux counters, “Yeah, but it can buy a hell of a lot of Mexican food. That’s close enough to happiness for me.”

 

You scoff. “Is that what you’re going to buy with the money?”

 

“You don’t know my life.”

 

“Thanks to the past hour, I actually kind of do.”

 

“You only know the basic facts. Not the real shit that would enable you to pass judgements on the amount of Mexican food I eat.”

 

“I’d judge anyone who spent over fifty dollars on fuckin’ mexican food.”

 

“Sounds like you’re living a sad life, then.”

 

“Italian food is better.”

 

“I reiterate, sounds like you’re living one sad life. Italian food isn’t even spicy. It’s just bread.”

 

You think about pulling over and actually having this argument with him. You really, honest to God contemplate the pros and cons of pulling over by the side of the highway and fighting your fake boyfriend who you’ve been speaking to for all one one hour. He can’t even weigh more than 130. Definitely not. You could take him in a real fight if it came to that. You realize instantly how absolutely ridiculous it is to fight someone about the merits of Italian food and say instead, “You know there’s a lot wrong with the statement you just said but I’m not going to dwell on it.”

 

“Hey Eridan?”

 

“What?”

 

“Are we there yet?”

 

“Now you’re just tryin’ to be annoying aren’t you?”

 

His laugh is nasally and strangely charming. “A little bit but how long until we get there? I’m bored. I want to make a scene already.”

 

You crane your neck, looking for the exit from the highway. Again, you appear to make Sollux only slightly nervous with your reckless speed changing. After the last 70 miles of you periodically speeding and passing lesser cars while dangerously changing lanes has left him a bit desensitized. You plan to drive a little bit more safely on the way home, maybe as a thank you. Yeah, as if whatever you’re going to owe him by the end of the night won’t be enough. “I’d say twenty minutes.”

 

“Are you sure there’s no other family drama that I can capitalize on?”

 

“Let’s see. Do you want funny family drama or the heavy stuff?”

 

He appears to be thinking for a moment, as if it’s a serious choice. “Can you tell me both?”

 

“Yeah, sure. One funny thing is that my brother’s kind of a deadbeat and my parents give him a hard time about it. The thing is, though, my dad’s been trying to get him into his business ever since Cronus moved back in with them. Because you know, according to Father my history degree is gonna do fuckall in the real- you know what? This is less funny than I thought. Just make fun of my brother for his appearance or somethin’. He’ll give you enough to work with just with his unbearable external qualities and inevitable social shortcomings.”

 

You don’t know if you’re relieved or insulted that Sollux is doing his best not to laugh, but you settle on relieved. You hired a stranger to create new family drama, not unhash old insecurities. “It’s fine,” he says through a little bit of laughter, “I asked you for family drama, and that’s what I got.” After an awkward silence, he asks, “Can I hear the other story?”

 

“Yeah, sure, why the hell not. The abridged version is that my mom doesn’t love my dad anymore but doesn’t want to do anything because she’d get screwed by the prenup. God forbid she has to live in the- gasp- middle class!”

 

“Christ, your family is fucked up. You don’t even need me to make a fucking mess. You could do it yourself.”

 

“Yes, but I want to make the mess a spiteful and gay mess. I need you to do that.”

 

He exhales. “Fair enough.”

 

Another moment of tense silence passes. “Reach back and put on the jacket and tie. We’re almost there.”

 

He complies silently.

 

“Okay, hear me out on this one,” you say nervously. You hope he can’t tell how awkward you feel about this.

 

“Yeah?”

 

“Okay, what about, we just kiss once and get the weird first one out of the way so it doesn’t look forced in front of my parents?” As an afterthought, you add, “I’ll pull over.” You don’t know if that made it better or worse. Being spiteful is a lot of work.

 

“Hey,” he says, eerily neutral about the whole affair, “as long as you’re paying.”

 

“Alright.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Alright.”

 

“Pull over any minute asshole, make me a rich man.”

 

You pull the car over on a quiet back road. The quiet makes you feel a little bit more tense. “Here we go.”

 

You look at him for a minute, leaning in, then going back on it. After an awkward thirty seconds or so, he mutters, “For Christ’s sake,” and pulls you in by the back of your neck for an actual kiss. He’s surprisingly decent, but nothing to write home about. Ironically, the whole mess does make you feel a little bit more at ease.

 

After you break away and start the car again, you hear him say, “Next time with a little more conviction, babe.”

 

“Got it.”

 

“What are the political views of your family members?”

 

You scoff, trying to forget years of political indoctrination that suddenly have come rushing back to you. “My parents are republicans but Cronus is a libertarian ever since my mother caught him with weed.”

 

Through what almost sounds like a snort, Sollux replies, “Absolutely perfect.”

You make the rest of the drive in comfortable silence. You focus merely on the sound that the light rain has begun to make against your windsheild.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Every single person who has commented on this made my day! Also I feel obligated to say that Sollux kind of makes fun of libertarians in this chapter (and also people from ohio) even though I don't have anything against people from either of those two groups. Also the joke about pi ending in 4 isn't mine, it's a callback to one of my favorite jokes in the comic proper! Thanks for reading :)

“Holy shit, Eridan, you weren’t lying when you said your family was fucking rich.”

 

“Why the hell would I lie about that?”

 

“It’s just a figure of speech. I don’t know, stop being a douche.”

 

He begins to unlock the door. Before he gets out, you say, “If you have any last questions or insults, say it right now, because the minute you step out of this door from the minute you get back in you’re my fuckin’ boyfriend.”

 

“I’m very good at improvising.” He slams the door, then comes to your side of the car. He offers you his hand, saying, “Hand holding is free, remember? Not that you couldn’t fucking afford it.”

 

You take his hand, quickly and naturally. You want to make it inside before you actually get wet. “Why would you charge me for that? You’re my fuckin’ boyfriend, remember?” You add under your breath, “If the housekeeper answers the door, you don’t have to be weird to her. Just my family, alright?”

 

He raises an eyebrow, as if making a silent remark on the fact that you actually have a housekeeper. “Can do.” This guy’s actually making you feel a little bad for being rich, as if you could help it. You’re pretty sure that’s a form of discrimination. No, wait, that’s just the political indoctrination speaking again. Without making a comment, he’s also making you a little bit self conscious that your hand is sweaty.

 

Surprisingly, your mother answers the door. She must actually be trying to make things somewhat right with you, and that makes you feel just a bit guilty for trying to fuck with her. Like your relationship with your parents was ever something a dinner at home could even begin to fix. Might as well have a little fun instead. “Hey, Mom.”

 

“Hi, Eridan.” She brings you into a swift hug, then gestures to your fake boyfriend. “And this is…?”

 

“Oh, that’s my boyfriend, Sollux.” You’re sure to put extra emphasis on the boyfriend part.

 

Through pursed lips, she says, “Nice to meet you,” and extends her hand. He full on hugs her. Reluctantly, she politely returns it.

 

“Is the food ready yet?” You notice how he’s making his lisp a little more pronounced than it was in the car. It’s a nice touch. He goes in without really being invited, yet another nice touch. 

 

As Sollux begins to explore your expansive front hallway, your mother pulls you over to the side. You can see a little bit of a family resemblance with her in your face and eyes, but you’ve always looked more like your father. She’s a good head shorter than you, too. She practically whispers, “Where did you say he was from?” 

 

You smile and enter the house alongside her. “Toledo.”

 

“You can take your shoes off here,” your mother coaxes.

 

Sollux, predictably, shakes his head. “Nah, I prefer to keep them on. You never know when you’re going to need to make a run for it.”

 

This is good, your mother is already visibly uncomfortable. “Dear, there’s not much to run from out here.”

 

Sollux laughs and rolls his eyes. “Boy, you have a lot to learn about this world if you think that. Particularly, the New World Order. It’s all just a front, Mrs. Ampora.”

 

“Alright,” she says, clearly attempting to stay calm, “you can keep them on. Please try not to track mud everywhere.”

 

Your mother walks well ahead of you, giving you the opportunity to flash Sollux a smile. Karkat was right to recommend him. He’s incredibly insufferable in all of the best ways. “You better bring up conspiracies again. That went over great,” you mutter.

 

“You’re goddamn right I will.”

 

“Danny!”

 

“Jesus Hell-”

 

You don’t see your brother, of course, but you know it’s him who put you in a goddamn headlock. He ruffles your hair and lets you go good-naturedly. Well, it would be good natured if he were actually good natured, and not just trying to be an ass. “Wow. Cronus. Hello, what a nice surprise.”

 

“Hey, I knew you were a homo, but I never pegged your tastes to be so… exotic.”

 

“Cronus,” your mother hisses.

 

By the look on Sollux’s face, your tab is currently standing at 300. You look back, expectantly. He doesn’t disappoint. “Hey man, with the way the statistics are looking white people are gonna be a minority in this country soon enough. Then we’ll see who’s exotic.”

 

You wonder if now is an appropriate time to kiss him, but quickly decide against it. You don’t want to rack up too much debt, so you should probably save them for when your dad is around to see. The four of you walk through the house making mindless small talk while Sollux makes sure to drag his free hand across the white walls, earning yet another look of disdain from your mother.

 

The long table in your dining room is usually set for at least 8 guests, but there’s only five places set for tonight. It feels kind of empty to see it like that. It feels uncomfortably human and familial. “Is Father coming?” you ask. Not that spiting your mother and weirding out your brother wouldn’t make the whole trip worth it, but it feels incomplete without disappointing your father as always.

 

Your mother nods. “I’ll go get him. You three can sit down.”

 

Cronus sits across the table, folding his hands on the surface. “So.”

 

“So,” you respond.

 

“You have a boyfriend.”

 

Sollux scoffs, “You say that like you don’t?”

 

Cronus does a double take. “I’m not gay, dude.”

 

“Hm. Sure.”

 

“Danny I swear to God, did you tell him I was fuckin’ gay?”

 

You hold your hands up in mock surrender. “No, God no. He must have just guessed it by looking at you.”

 

“He’s right, the greaser schtick is pretty gay.” You wonder if Sollux realizes just how much of an insult that was to your brother. Either way, you’re glad he said it. Cronus looks like someone just insulted his entire livelihood. 

 

Out of genuine curiosity, you ask your brother, “Do you have a girlfriend yet?”

 

He looks at you, then shakes his head. “Eh, last month I was talkin’ with this girl, but she was just too much for me, you know? I’d prefer to be single and happy than have a girlfriend who’s a stuck-up bitch.”

 

Sollux raises an eyebrow at him. “Just how many girlfriends have you had, exactly? Lots, I assume?”

 

“Yeah, girls just fuckin’ flock to me like you wouldn’t believe.”

 

“Mhm. And have your relationships always felt as shallow as the one you just described? Because then I might have some news for you about-”

 

“Danny, will you just tell him that I’m straight?”

 

You straighten out the silverware in front of you. The fact that you have three forks means that you’re probably in for quite a night. You deadpan, “Cronus is the straightest person I’ve ever met in my entire life.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

Your brother looks around the room for a moment, anywhere but your eyes, really. “So how have you been anyways?”

 

“Things have been alright, my classes are going fine,” you say with a nod, “better since I met him.”

 

Sollux goes in for a kiss, and you can’t even blame him for costing you another 10 dollars (310). Cronus is trying to play it cool, but he just ends up looking pretty uncomfortable.

 

“Christ,” you hear your brother mutter.

 

“You know,” you remind him, “last time you brought a girl home you two practically fucked on the table.

 

“You’re twistin’ shit around and you know it.”

 

Before the argument can progress further, your mother comes back with your father trailing a few paces behind her. For a moment, you reevaluate your entire plan, because your father actually terrifies you. You conclude, however, that you ought to go through with it, because fathers shouldn’t actually be terrifying. Even if you wanted to stop it, you’re too deep in to do anything about it.

 

“Eridan,” your father says.

 

You stand up to greet him. “Father.”

 

He’s not much taller than you in actuality, but it just feels like he’s taller than you. “Well?”

 

“Well what?”

 

“Aren’t you going to introduce me to your… friend?”

 

Sollux is already up, beside you, and holding out his hand before you can think to respond. “Boyfriend, actually. Sollux Captor. Pleased to meet you, Mr. Ampora.” Just as your father goes in to shake his hand, Sollux pulls it away. “Ha, too slow. Can’t believe you fell for that. Anyways, is the food ready?”

 

Unlike your mother, your father doesn’t look at you. He just says, “the salad should be ready by now.” Fuck, maybe he’s so calm because he’s actually going to blow up at some point during the night. You really hope he doesn’t cut you off. He turns to your mother and asks, “Can you see what’s taking them so long with the salad?”

 

Your mother rushes out into the kitchen while the rest of you take your seats at the table. Sollux scoffs. “So you guys have wait staff, huh? You guys must be more fucking loaded than Eridan let on.”

 

“Ehem. So how did you two meet?”

 

Right, the backstory. At least the cursing seemed to rub your father the wrong way, even if it was just a little bit. You put your arm around Sollux for emphasis. “He tutored me in chemistry. He’s actually the reason I still have a 4.0.” That wasn’t even a total lie, you did have a pretty good tutor to save your grade in chemistry. It just wasn’t him.

 

“Mhm. So you’re good in chemistry?”

 

“Yes he’s good at-”

 

“I think he can answer the question for himself, Eridan.”

 

Sollux smiles. “You know, I don’t mean to brag, but I’m extremely fucking good at chemistry.”

 

From across the table, Cronus says half-mockingly, “Yeah? Teach me some chemistry, then. Whaddaya know that’s so impressive?”

 

Sollux looks both ways, then lowers his voice to a sort of stage whisper. “I’ll let you in on a little chemistry secret. You see everything around you? It’s made of atoms. Every last bit of it.”

 

Cronus rolls his eyes. “No, teach me something real if you’re so extremely fuckin’ good at chemistry?”

 

Your father puts an end to the asinine exchange swiftly. “Cronus, stop pressuring the guest. So, are you in the sciences?”

 

Sollux, now attempting to make a sculpture out of his available silverware (enlisting some of your forks as well) responds, “Engineering. Aerospace.”

 

“Oh,” your father says, clearly pleasantly surprised, “do you have plans for after college?”

 

“Mmmhm. Well, sort of. Last semester I was thinking I would enter some sort of contract with the military, but you know, fuck the military. I’d rather work for NASA. Let’s put some people on Mars already.”

 

Your father gives him a stern look, but Sollux doesn’t look up to actually see it. “You know, a lot of space travel is going down the route of privatization. It may very well not be NASA that puts the first people on Mars.”

 

“I mean, if we slashed the military budget we could give NASA all the funding it actually needs to get to Mars. Not to mention expand social welfare programs.”

 

Okay, that’s it. You’re father hates welfare almost as much as he hates that hipster vegan restaurant that’s down the street from your neighborhood. You feel like he has to have some sort of aggressive comment about that. Instead, he surprises you by proceeding civilly. “But what’s the point in allocating funding to NASA when a private company can do a job just as well?”

 

“See, your flaw there is assuming that the private company actually can do the job as well. A corporation's goal has been, is, and always will be to make money, whereas NASA’s goal has purely been to pursue knowledge and secure regions outside of Earth’s atmosphere. We can’t trust a money-making entity with research vital to the human race.”

 

You give Sollux a swift but hard kick to remind him that he’s not here to engage in intellectual debate, but to make your family really fucking uncomfortable. Thankfully, Cronus butts in again before your father can form another actual response. “I agree that we shouldn’t be spending so much on the military, but only bleeding-heart liberals hate corporations just because they’re corporations. I say we let the free market run it’s course. It’s been working so far.”

 

“Oh yeah, ED told me you had some alternative political views. So give me an idea here: are you an I-jack-off-to-Atlas-Shrugged kind of libertarian, an I-really-like-weed-but-I-also-like-guns libertarian, or an I-hate-my-parents-and-failed-high-school-econ kind of libertarian? Maybe a combination of the three?” There we go.

 

“Hey, real great argument there. Almost as good as me shovin’ this fork up your-”

 

Just as Cronus actually begins to grab at his dessert fork, (weak choice, the entree fork would have been more effective) your mother comes back in the room, followed by the chef. In the midst of the excitement, you had forgotten that you’re actually really damn hungry. “Wow, that looks great,” you say to no one in particular.

 

After the salad in placed in the middle, your mother takes her seat beside Cronus and beckons you all to help yourselves. Sollux makes a point of going in with his hands.

 

“There’s utensils here for a reason, dear,” your mother says. She’s better at reacting than your father is. Not quite at threatening to a shove a fork up someone’s asshole level good, but you can at least tell he’s getting a rise out of her.

 

Sollux shakes his head, placing the handful of salad down on his plate. “No, not needed. I find it practical to cut out the middleman whenever possible. Gotta be self-reliant in this world.”

 

Cronus scoffs at you. “Is that how his people eat?” he says under his breath.

 

Sollux kicks your leg, as if to say, ‘that’s another ten bucks’. Yeah, you didn’t need to be told (320). Even you caught that one. At the risk of costing yourself another few tens by dragging out the conversation, you ask Cronus, “His people? You mean like people from Ohio?”

 

Before you can get the reaction you wanted, your father spoils it. “Cronus, how many times do I have to tell you not to harass the guest?”

 

“Yeah, like he hasn’t been harassin’ the hell out of me ever since he got here,” he mumbles.

 

“What was that?” you ask.

 

Cronus kicks your shin under the table to respond.

 

You all proceed eating the salad rather quietly until your father attempts to resume the conversation. You’re thankful for that. You know that you’re paying Sollux to be annoying and all, but he doesn’t have to chew that loudly. “So how long has it been with-”

 

You answer promptly, “Two months.”

 

“Ah.”

 

“Yep.”

 

It seems that Sollux knows exactly what will make your father uncomfortable, because he continues, “He asked me out at a coffee shop, out of all the cliche places. It was kind of cute when he did it, though.”

 

You wonder if you should kiss him again. It would clearly make them uncomfortable, but at the same time, it feels like it would just be strange. Do people actually kiss that often? Do people actually kiss at dinner tables with their families? (Well, if Cronus is any example, then yes they do.) To prevent psyching yourself out any more, you just go for it (330). It makes your father very clearly uncomfortable, as you intended.

 

In an effort to change the subject, your father asks, “So, Sollux, is your family from around here?”

 

He answers with a full mouth. “No, Toledo actually. The armpit of Ohio. No, I take that back. All of Ohio is the armpit of Ohio. That place is awful.”

 

“You know, my wife is from Ohio.”

 

Sollux turns to face your mother. “Sorry you’re from the armpit of America, Mrs. Ampora.”

 

Your mother barely responds. “I’ll go check to see if the steak is ready.”

 

“Steak?” Sollux asks. “I don’t eat steak.”

 

“Don’t tell he doesn’t eat meat,” Cronus groans.

 

“I eat meat if it’s killed ethically, I just don’t eat meat from cows.” He’s sure to look at your conservative Christian father when he says, “I’m Hindu.”

 

Your mother, still standing awkwardly at the edge of the dining room, says, “We can work something out then. I’m sure some extra pasta wouldn’t be a problem for the chef.”

 

As she’s leaving, Sollux leans back in his chair. “That’s great, I fucking love pasta.”

 

You expect your father to start asking Sollux some invasive questions about his fake religion, but instead, he looks at you. “Eridan, why didn’t you tell your mother that your friend had dietary restrictions?”

 

Okay, no, this trip wasn’t supposed to be about garden variety father disappointment. It was supposed to be super-gay guilt-tripping your family kind of father disappointment. “I didn’t get a chance to mention it. Mom hung up on me as soon as I said I was bringing my boyfriend.” Again, you emphasize the boyfriend part that your father doesn’t seem to be grasping.

 

“You could’ve told her when she gave you the date.”

 

“She made Cronus do that.”

 

“Then you could’ve told Cronus.”

 

“Like Cronus has ever responsibly dealt with any tidbit of information, ever.”

 

“Hey, don’t talk about me like I’m not here.”

 

“Don’t pretend it ain’t true.”

 

Sollux kicks your ankle surprisingly hard. Right, he’s the one that’s supposed to be causing problems, not you. Then again, why does he care? He’s getting paid no matter what. The genuine familial drama and aura of disdain must be getting a bit much for him. Whatever. This shit’s probably good for him to see, what with the kind and loving family he mentioned during the car ride. You wonder what that’s like. You kick back, trying to tell him that if he wants it to stop he can fucking stop it himself.

 

“Mr. Amp, what do you think about the JFK assassination?”

 

“I’m sorry, what?”

 

“I mean, do you buy into the mass media bullshit and think that Lee Harvey Oswald actually did it?”

 

Unsurprisingly, Cronus takes the bait on this one. “A commie conspiracy theorist, huh? You got a real winner, Danny.”

 

“So you’re not even going to entertain the possibility that someone could’ve been in the grassy knoll? Not even for one second?”

 

“Wow are you going to tell me the moon landing was fake next?”

 

“Fuck you, the moon landing was 100 percent real. Also, do you really buy into the fact that Lee Harvey Oswald was acting completely alone? And that Jack Ruby was also acting completely alone? Even with the mysterious circumstances surrounding both of their deaths? How could you possibly buy into something that just smells like government conspiracy?”

 

“Oswald and Ruby were both crazy assholes and whatever poorly thought out nonsense you spew at me ain’t gonna convince me otherwise.”

 

You father scolds, “Cronus, don’t curse at dinner.”

 

Cronus slams his fist on the table. “You’re not tellin’ him off and he’s been cursin’ like no one’s business.”

 

“He’s not my kid.”

 

Your mom probably keeps leaving because you’ve accomplished your goal of making her insanely uncomfortable. If there was anybody to take you up on it, you’d bet that the next time your mother comes in she’ll smell like cigarettes and stress. Even though you don’t smoke, you think you could go for a cigarette. They have that aesthetic sadness quality that you’ve always found intensely appealing. “So how’s business been, Father?”

 

“It’s been better, lately.”

 

“Eridan tells me you work with a tech company?”

 

“Yes, that’s right. We design and manufacture computers.”

 

“By ‘we’ and ‘manufacture’ you mean kids in Chinese sweatshops, right?”

 

Cronus laughs, to which Sollux responds, “Yeah, the free market’s great from over there, isn’t it?”

 

Before Sollux and Cronus can get into another hilarious spat, your father gets political again. “Manufacturers bring all sorts of jobs to Asia. China’s economy is vastly different than what we have in America.”

 

“So that’s a yes on the sweatshops?”

 

“Outsourcing manufacturing processes doesn’t make a company guilty of using sweatshops.”

 

“Mhm. Do your workers in China make a living wage?”

 

“I don’t personally deal with the wages of low-level workers, but I’m sure that they do.”

 

“Likely story.”

 

“I don’t expect some college kid to grasp all of the intricacies of the global market economy but-”

 

“Oh thank fuck the food is ready. I hope you’re paying the chef enough to eat. That sure would be ironic if you weren’t, though.”

 

Ignoring the comment, you mother says, “The chef made sure there was extra pasta.” She places the bowl of fettuccine on the tabled, then is followed by the chef who places a steak and vegetables on everyone else’s plate (although she does give Sollux the vegetables.) Before Sollux can get into the pasta with his hands, your mother cuts him off. “No, let me.” With appropriate serving utensils, she gives Sollux a decent helping of noodles, then lets everyone else get their own. Sollux begins trying to eat it with a fork, mocks frustration, and ends up putting it on the fork with his hands.

 

“So, Cronus,” you ask, “are you working anywhere right now?”

 

“Dad hooked me up with something small at the company.”

 

“Mhm,” you say, “and is he paying you a living wage?”

 

You think you made Sollux genuinely laugh at that. This whole dinner sort of feels like a huge inside joke between you and a guy you actually barely know. It’s a strange feeling to have your sole experience with a stranger be something so utterly personal. At least with a one night stand you don’t actually have to open up about your life to someone, you just fuck them.

 

As if the joke were below him, Cronus responds, “Yeah.” He looks at Sollux. “Does he always eat food like that?”

 

“Cronus stop-”

 

“Stop harassin’ the guest, I know. But he’s harassin’ my eyes by bein’ gross.”

 

Dinner gives everyone an excuse to be quiet and stare at their food without really talking to each other. Your father tries to ask you and Sollux more questions, and you two just give him more canned lines from the fabricated backstory. He manages to also ask a few questions about Hinduism, only one of which costs you 10 dollars (340). To you it all sounds pretty legitimate, but you’re certain he must have made up at least one of the inane facts your father wanted to know. Your mother escapes to clear the dishes and ‘check on dessert’ as soon as she possibly can.

 

It was pretty easy to forget about the rain, until you hear a huge crack of thunder. “Are you sure you want to drive back in this, Eridan?”

 

Suddenly aware that the 1 in 500 chance of you owing Sollux 200 extra dollars may be much more likely than you initially thought, you assert, “I’ve driven in the rain before, Father.”

 

“I don’t want you driving if it’s dangerous out there.”

 

“I repeat: I know how to drive in rain, Father.”

 

Sollux taps your nose, getting alfredo sauce on your face. It’s absolutely disgusting. You wonder if that cost 5 dollars. (345?) “I wouldn’t mind staying if the roads are bad.” Oh, that asshole. He just wants the extra two hundred. He rubs the extra alfredo sauce on your pants underneath the table.

 

“We’ll see what your mother thinks after dessert.”

 

“I can make a decision myself, Father. For the third time: I’ve driven in rain.”

 

Cronus adds, “Hey, I’d side with Danny on this. If he ain’t comfortable extendin’ this train wreck any longer I say we shouldn’t fuckin’ make him.”

 

“Just let me look at the weather alright? I’ll be right back.” You get up and leave the room, only partially because you actually want to check the weather.

 

You feel like you could really go for that aesthetic cigarette right now. It’d probably make you cough or shake or something, but it might do well to really complete the feeling of absolute emptiness you have right now. Of course you pissed off Cronus and damaged your relationship with your mother, which is what you aimed to do, but you were really hoping for a bigger reaction out of your father. What that hypothetical reaction could’ve been, you don’t know, but you weren’t expecting him to actually debate and defend a guy who you’re literally paying to be as obnoxious as possible. Since when does your dad stand for people saying stuff like “fuck the military”? Since when does he sit idly by while people eat pasta with their hands?

 

You open the door and discover that it’s actually raining extremely hard. You doubt you could even see two feet in front of you if you were to get behind the wheel of a car. Discouraged, you glance at your phone to see a few missed messages from your best friend waiting for you. The weather app tells you it’s probably going to be raining all night. Fuck the weather app. Fuck fatherly disappointment. Fuck that it’s only directed at you and no one else. Just, fuck that. You head back to the dining room.

 

“- but it’s leading to the destruction of our planet. That consequence will always outweigh monetary gain.”

 

“Oh, hello Eridan. How did the weather look?”

 

“Absolutely awful,” you say truthfully. You realize that your mother had come back and brought vanilla mousse with her. It was nice that they at least waited for you.

 

Your mother begins, “Sollux can sleep in the guest room.”

 

Cronus scoffs, hands folded against his chest. “Last time I had a girl here you let her sleep in my room.”

 

Your father looks at your mother. “He’s not a child anymore.” No, that’s all wrong! He should be starting a fight over this! When did your father start backing away from fights?

 

“Hm,” you say. Your mother doesn’t respond, meaning that your father probably won this one. Too bad that you’re actually going to have to sleep in the same room with Sollux. Despite the heavy spite value that this one carries, you’d almost rather if your mother had won the argument. Above all, you’d prefer to just be heading home after dinner. 545- you’re definitely going to have to make two payments on that one. And stick to ramen for a week or two. God, fuck ramen. Fuck ramen and canned soup and everything else that’s cheap at the grocery store.

 

“Well, bon appetit,” Sollux mutters before going face first into the dessert.

 

“You know what, fuck it,” Cronus says, before doing the exact same thing. If one good thing came out of tonight, you’re pretty sure that your date broke your brother.

 

Your father just sighs, but your mother smacks Cronus upside the head. That’s interesting, she doesn’t usually try anything like that when there are guests. Guess he broke your mother, too. You stare at her and eat your dessert with a fork.

 

“So,” Sollux asks, “What do you people do around here for fun? Go on fox hunts or something?”

 

You wipe the dessert off his face with your napkin (550) and say, “Fox hunts are for when it’s sunny, babe.”

 

“When it’s raining we generally just sit in isolation for several hours,” Cronus says. “You know, until it clears up enough for fox hunting and polo.” You wonder if Cronus actually figured out that this is a ruse, and is in on the joke now or something. You always figured he was too stupid for any sort of logical deduction like that. The guy dropped out of college after three semesters because he didn’t want to take a math course, for Christ’s sake.

 

“Well, if you’re interested in hearing some of my more advanced theories I’d be open to spending a few hours discussing them. Get this, if jet fuel isn’t hot enough to melt steel beams, then how come-”

 

“That’s quite alright,” your mother interrupts, “maybe Eridan and Cronus could give you a tour of the house?”

 

“That’s your loss, Mrs. Amp. But hey, I’ll take a tour.” You follow Sollux as he gets up.

 

Cronus whines, “Mom, stop volunteerin’ me for stuff.”

 

“Don’t be rude to the guest,” you father says. What is it with your father defending him? Did he just tune out that Sollux insinuated 9/11 was an inside job? You’re about this close to losing your shit and jumping off a cliff. Maybe if you stood under a tree lightening would strike you. Would that be enough to mildly annoy your father? Or would he just chastise you for dying without his permission? Either way, Cronus reluctantly follows you out of the room.

 

The minute your parents are out of earshot, Cronus asks, “So what’s your deal anyways, kid? Are you insufferable- or should I say inthufferable- just for kicks? Were you dropped on your head as a baby or somethin’? Or do you genuinely not know how to use a fuckin’ fork?”

 

“Hey, all I’m saying is that if your hands are clean, there’s literally no reason to use a fork for anything.”

 

“Oh, let me guess, forks are an agent of globalization instituted by the illuminati?”

 

“Man, don’t fuck around about the illuminati. That’s some serious shit. Forks are just unnecessary.”

 

“You’re probably not nearly as smart as you’re pretending you are.”

 

You butt in, “Of course he is. He’s just eccentric is all.”

 

Cronus stops walking through the halls for a moment and folds his arms. “Come on, do something smart, then. I’m waitin’.”

 

“You can’t just tell someone to do somethin’ smar-”

 

“3.1415926535897932384626433832795028841971693993751058209749445923078164062862089986280348253421170679821480865132823066470938446095...”

 

Cronus looks at you. “What the hell is he doing?”

 

You shrug. “Somethin’ smart. He’s recitin’ pi.”

 

“5058223172535940812848111745028410270193852110555964462294895493038196442881097566593344…”

 

“Does he know all of it?”

 

“No, dumbass, you can’t fuckin’ know all of pi.”

 

“A buddy of mine said he solved it one time.”

 

“612847564823378678316527120190914564856692346034861045432664821339360726024914127372458700660631558817488152092096282925409171536436…”

 

“You can’t just solve pi.”

 

“Yeah you can. He said the last digit was 4.”

 

“I hate to break it to you, but he was just fuckin’ with you.”

 

“No he wasn’t, it’s 4.”

 

“789259036001133053054882046652138414695194151160943305727036575959195309218611738193261179310511854807446237996274956735188575272489…”

 

Pointing up, you tell your brother, “Hey, it says gullible on the ceiling.”

 

He looks up. “Fuck off, not it doesn’t.”

 

“Are you sure? Maybe you should look again.”

 

“No, fuck you.”

 

“You’re right, it actually says ‘I Solved Pi’ on the ceiling.” 

 

“I’m not gullible, this guy actually did it.”

 

“122793818301194912983367336244065664308602139494639522473719070217986094370277053921717629317675238467481846766940513200056812714526...”

 

“So how much of it does he know?” Cronus asks.

 

“500 digits.”

 

“Just memorized like that?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“What the hell is the use a’ knowin’ that?”

 

“356082778577134275778960917363717872146844090122495343014654958537105079227968925892354201995611212902196086403441815981362977477130…”

 

“I don’t know,” you say, “it’s kind of hot.”

 

“You’re disgustin’.”

 

“You’re tellin’ me when that guy told you he solved pi you weren’t all over that?”

 

“I’m not gay, for the last fuckin’ time.”

 

“996051870721134999999837297804995105973173281609631859502445945534690830264252230825334468503526193118817101000313783875288658753320…”

 

“Hm. Sure.”

 

“Danny, I’ll fuckin’ fight you. We can go outside in the rain and we can fight mano a mano right now about it.”

 

“Yeah, like that worked out well for you last time. Tell me about those scars again?”

 

“Fuck you, girls love my scars.”

 

“8381420617177669147303598253490428755468731159562863882353787593751957781857780532171226806613001927876611195909216420198. Whew! Was that smart enough for you?”

 

Cronus begins walking again, then opens a door. “This is the fuckin’ library. Enjoy the nerd shit. Maybe there’s a book about the JFK assassination and you could learn some actual history.”

 

“You’re pretending like government cover-ups don’t happen every day,” Sollux says, walking into your father’s vast library.

 

“Christ,” Cronus mutters. You’re disappointed that he doesn’t give an actual response. He sits down at your father’s desk and gets out his phone, while Sollux goes through some of the books. It’s kind of cute, actually. He’s probably never seen a real home library like yours. After a moment of watching him, you get out your phone as well.

 

CC: ) ( ey -Erifin

 

CC: Message me back soon!

 

CC: We need to talk 38(

 

CA: oh god fef wwhat did i do

 

CC: Karkat may or may not have mentioned some plans you had tonight… care to explain?

 

CA: if youre not gonna make me explain then i dont care to

 

CC: 38(

 

CA: okay fef ill message you back tomorroww and you can completely cheww me out then

 

CA: you can use as many fish puns as you wwant too i wwont evven judge you for that

 

CC: You’re still there, aren’t you?

 

CA: yeah

 

CC: Without talking about the morayeelity of all this yet, how is it going?!

 

CA: wwish i kneww

 

CC: How can you knot know?

 

CA: my fathers too clam about all of it its freakin me out

 

CC: Your dads always been so stoic about things 38O

 

CC: I don’t think you should let him freak you out, even if you are being deceitful.

 

CA: okay bye fef wwe can glub or whatever you call talkin about it later alright

 

CC: Okay. Just remember you’re not off the hook, fishter!

 

CA: yeah yeah bye fef

 

“Your father sure has a thing for nonfiction.”

 

Through a scoff, your brother says, “That’s all he reads.”

 

“Well what would you prefer?”

 

“I don’t read.”

 

“Hm, never would have guessed.”

 

You snicker from across the room.

 

Cronus gets up, disturbing a few books in the process. “Do you want to see the rest of this stupid house or not?”

 

“I mean, not particularly,” Sollux says with a shrug. He checks his phone, which will probably die soon. You feel mildly bad that you don’t have an android charger anywhere in the house before you remember that androids suck. Maybe if he just got an iPhone like everyone else he wouldn’t be stuck at someone else’s house without a charger. “It’s 7:30. I don’t mind participating in the family custom of after-dinner isolation.”

 

“Alright. If the parents ask, let’s say we finished this.” He crosses the room, then stops briefly next to you. He says quietly, so only you can hear, “It wasn’t your fault that it went to hell so quickly. Or hey, maybe it was. Hell, I wouldn’t blame you for makin’ it into a disaster on purpose. I just hope fuckin’ with them was worth it.”

 

“Worth what?” You hiss.

 

Cronus flashes a smile. “You’re right. What the hell am I talkin’ about?” And he leaves.

 

You stand in silence for a moment, before asking. “Do you actually want to see the rest of the house, or did you just want to get rid of him?”

 

Sollux comes over to stand a bit closer to you. “If you want to show me, sure. But really, there’s not reason why I’d actually have an interest in seeing some rich stranger’s house.”

 

“We can just walk around, if you want. You don’t even have to hold my hand, even though it is free.”

 

He shoves his hands in his pockets. “Sounds decent. Take me to the most ridiculously extravagant room in the house.”

 

You tap your chin, pretending to deliberate. “That would be the head room.”

 

“The head room?”

 

“You know, from all the fox hunts.”

 

“You’ve got to be kidding me.”

You smile, fully confident in the fact that you are not kidding at all. “Let’s go.”


	4. Chapter 4

CG: HOW’S DINNER WITH YOUR FAMILY? IS IT THE ABSOLUTE SHITFEST THAT YOU WANTED?

 

CG: I’D FEEL FUCKING AWFUL IF I REFERRED YOU TO SOMEONE WHO DIDN’T TURN OUT TO BE ANNOYING AS HELL.

 

“You know, I feel kind of lied to that you guys didn’t have any actual fox heads. Just a lot of deer and shit. My redneck uncle has heads like those.”

 

You look up from your phone and over at Sollux. He’s sitting cross-legged on your bed, nose deep in a book you found for him. It’s funny, looking at you doesn’t seem to be a prerequisite for talking to you for him. “Yeah, but your redneck uncle doesn’t have them on velvet plaques in a special head room. Besides, I thought we were jokin’ about the fox hunt shit.”

 

“I mostly was, I mean, until I found out that you had a head room. God, who the hell has a room they call the head room? Even my fucking uncle just props his heads up any old place in his house.” He pauses for a minute. “Most of that left-wing stuff I spewed at your family was bullshit on my part, but in all honesty, fuck rich people.”

 

“I didn’t ask to be born rich,” you say defensively.

 

He shakes his head. “That’s not like a ‘fuck this douche in particular’, more like a ‘fuck the fact that some people’s lives are so much nicer than others’.”

 

You raise your eyebrows. “I want you to think of everything you’ve seen tonight and reconsider your insinuation that my life was anything close to good growin’ up.”

 

“You’re frustratingly personal about all this. I’m not insinuating anything about you or your life in particular. In fact, I probably had a much nicer childhood scraping by in the middle class than your rich ass had. I’m just saying that the whole idea of some people being born rich while others are born poor is just shitty.”

 

“I guess.”

 

“You don’t have to agree with me, and I understand why you wouldn’t, with your vantage point. I was just venting. Forget I even said anything.”

 

You look back to your phone. “It’s alright. I will.”

 

CA: hey kar

 

CA: things wwent okay i guess im not evven sure howw to define okay under these circumstances your friend did fine though

 

CA: i mean i made my mom really pissy wwhich is good because the wwhole thing came out of my impulsivve desire to spite her

 

CA: my brother wwas pretty upset by the end of it evven if he did seem to figure out wwhat i wwas doin

 

CA: but my father was so chill the wwhole night that its actaully kind of messin wwith me

 

KK: YOU HAVE NEVER DESCRIBED YOUR DOMINEERING MANIPULATIVE FATHER TO ME AS “CHILL” IN THE ENTIRE FIVE YEARS I’VE KNOWN YOU.

 

CA: yeah its fuckin weird aint it

 

CA: sol wwould say somethin completely out of left field and my father wwould just roll wwith it and he kept tellin cro to lay off 

 

CA: like i get the sense he wwas more disappointed wwith me than he wwas actually upset about anythin

 

CA: also did you fuckin tell fef about this fuck you

 

CG: WAS I NOT SUPPOSED TO TELL FEFERI?

 

CA: absolutely not especially wwith her highfalutin morals n wwhat not

 

CG: EXCUSE ME THEN. IT’S NOT LIKE YOU TWO DON’T TELL EACH OTHER EVERYTHING ABOUT YOUR INSIGNIFICANT LIVES. YOU COULD PROBABLY TELL ME THE PRECISE FUCKING MEASUREMENTS OF EACH OF HER LEG HAIRS.

 

CA: stop bein a douche kar wwe wwere havvin a moment

 

CA: fefs already gonna yell at me tomorroww about it

 

CG: YOU BROUGHT IT UP, ASSHOLE.

 

CA: wwell noww im bringin it dowwn

 

CG: WHATEVER. TELL ME MORE ABOUT YOUR TANTALIZING DADDY ISSUES.

 

CA: jesus christ never call my fucked up relationship wwith my father daddy issues evver again or im terminatin this friendship on the spot

 

CG: OKAY, SORRY. I KNOW IT’S A SENSITIVE TOPIC.

 

CA: its just shitty howw evveryone else can do outrageous stupid things and my father still puts up wwith them but i step out of his predetermined expectations box for one fuckin second and suddenly im the wworst

 

CG: MAYBE SINCE YOUR BROTHER WAS SUCH A FUCKUP HE WAS STRICTER WITH YOU? FUCK, DUDE, I WISH I COULD GIVE YOU SOME ACTUAL ADVICE ON THIS.

 

CA: no you might be onto somethin

 

CA: but by his standards im a fuckup too because of the history degree thing

 

CA: wwait shit hold on

 

“Do you have a bathroom?”

 

“No.”

 

Sollux marks a page in his book, then puts it on your nightstand. “That’s too bad. Guess I’m just going to have to piss on your bed.”

 

“Fine, get up. I’ll show you.”

 

“You can just tell me where it is, you know.”

 

“No, you’d get fuckin’ lost or something. Besides, I should show you where we have extra toothbrushes and stuff.”

 

“Wow, I actually get to brush my teeth? This place gets more and more luxurious by the minute.”

 

Before opening the doorway to the hallway, you say, “Shut the fuck up.” To find the bathroom from your room, you have to take the first left, then enter the second door on the right. It’s not that hard, but you don’t feel completely comfortable just letting a stranger loose in your house to enter whatever room he wants. Not that your parents don’t have parties all the time, but it just feels weird under the circumstances. You show him the extra toothbrushes in the second drawer, and start to unwrap one for him.

 

While you’re focused on that, he pulls you into another completely unexpected kiss (560). After about five awkward, forced seconds, you hear the footsteps that he presumably heard as well, and go along with it. At a different time or in a different place, you may have actually enjoyed it. Instead, you simply continue with the motions until the footsteps seem to respire.

 

He turns on the water to brush his teeth. “I assume that was my mother by the complete lack of confrontation involved?”

 

He smiles and shoved the toothbrush into his mouth. “Nope, it was your dad. I even made eye contact with the poor fuck for a second. I thought he was going to vomit all over the ground at first, but he just walked away.”

 

“So he looked, like, pissed off about it, right?”

 

“Not exactly pissed, more like intensely uncomfortable.”

 

“I’ll take what I can get then.”

 

“Now leave me alone so I can piss.”

 

As you’re leaving, you whisper, “Make sure to spill some toothpaste on the sink. Strike that, just spill all the toothpaste all over the sink.”

 

He gives you a thumbs up, and spits. You close the door and head back to your room. 

 

You mess around on twitter until Sollux gets back, half expecting him to talk to you when he returns. He doesn’t. Instead, you just return to your conversation with Karkat.

 

CA: okay im back

 

CG: AND I NEVER LEFT.

 

CA: wwhat wwas i goin on about again

 

CG: THE SHORTCOMINGS OF YOUR MALE PARENTAL FIGURE.

 

CA: yeah i dont knoww

 

CA: ivve just beaten this topic like a dead fuckin horse havvent i

 

CA: its not rude if you tell me i havve

 

CG: YOU TALK ABOUT IT A LOT. BUT HEY, THERE’S A LOT THERE TO TALK ABOUT.

 

CA: i guess there is wwhen you say it like that

 

CA: lookin back it seems like i had a really shitty time growwin up and a lot of that is his fault

 

CA: but noww im sort of okay but also in some wways nevver wwill be its wweird

 

CG: HAVE YOU EVER BROUGHT IT UP WITH YOUR DAD?

 

CA: thats a terrible idea

 

CG: SORRY IM JUST TRYING TO OFFER SOME ADVICE BESIDES “TRY DOING SOME MEDITATION AND STUPID FUCKING BREATHING EXERCISES”.

 

CA: you dont need to try an givve me advvice

 

CA: you knoww wwhat ill talk to you later

 

CA: sol is doin somethin fuckin wweird again

 

“Why the hell are you jumpin’ on my bed?” You notice that he’s placed his phone and his book off to the side.

 

“Just seeing what kind of noises and shit it can make. You have an unfortunately quiet bed. This chick on in my dorm had this boyfriend for the first half of the year, and you know, the dorm mattresses are so shitty that my entire floor could hear it. Not to mention the other godawful noises they would make, but we could hear the actual bed. It was awful, I had to buy earplugs.”

 

You get up to stand beside your bed. “I still have no idea what that has to do with what you’re doin’.”

 

He stops for a minute. “You’ve got to be fucking kidding me. Are you really that dense?”

 

“What?”

 

“Okay, so let me put this into perspective for you. If your father can’t even manage to say the word ‘boyfriend’ around you without getting uncomfortable, you know what would make him really super fucking uncomfortable?”

 

“Don’t tell me you actually want to pretend we’re-”

 

“How many rooms away is he?”

 

“Two.”

 

“And your brother is…?”

 

“Two in the other direction.”

 

He sits back down. “That’s no fucking problem. I mean, not if you’re loud enough.”

 

“God, this is fuckin’ weird.”

 

He shrugs. “Wouldn’t be the first weird thing I’ve done today. But it’s your decision, ultimately. Consent is always important, even when the sex is pretend.”

 

You shake your head. “This feels like some really fucked up version of a one night stand.”

 

“I mean, in some ways it totally is. Except you’re paying me, so your weird one night stand is with a prostitute. Paying someone to not fuck you? That’s kind of ironic.”

 

“My head hurts.”

 

Seemingly unaware of your complaint, Sollux continues. “Tomorrow you could show up to breakfast with my shirt on. That would really drive the point home.”

 

Through a half-laugh, half-sigh, you say, “You know what? Fuck, let’s do it. I mean, pretend to do it. Christ, I sound like a thirteen year old when I say it like that.”

 

You spend the next twenty minutes trying to recreate the soundtrack of the worst and loudest amateur porno ever created. When you’re done, you hear banging on the walls from Cronus’ side. It actually makes you laugh.

 

“Holy shit,” you say, “I can’t believe I fuckin’ did that in my parents’ house.”

 

“Do you want my shirt now or tomorrow? You know what, I’ll just put it on the chair so you don’t forget.”

 

You lean back on your bed, kind of wishing for the aesthetic cigarette again. Once Sollux sits back down beside you, you ask impulsively, “So what’s your sexuality anyways?”

 

He laughs. “Why the hell do you want to know?”

 

“I don’t know, I figure you know that much about me.”

 

“Yeah, but it doesn’t really matter. I’m probably not going to think about this night ever again unless I need a crazy story to tell someone in a pinch. And then, I’m going to focus more about the dumb shit we pulled rather than the facts I uselessly memorized about you.”

 

“You just wasted more time talking out of your ass just now than it would take me to tell you if you’re straight or gay or what.”

 

“Alright then,” he replies, “I’m what.”

 

“What?”

 

He laughs to himself. “You said straight or gay or what. I’m not straight or gay, so I guess I fall under your ‘what’ category.”

 

“Oh, so you’re into both.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Interesting.”

 

“Why’d you want to know, anyways? There’s plenty of other facts about me that are actually relevant and exciting.”

 

You shrug and look away. “I don’t know. It’s not that important, part of me just wanted confirmation that I wasn’t kissin’ a straight guy? Again, I couldn’t tell you why it matters.”

 

“Confirmation? You mean you had suspicions?” He sounds surprised. Of course he does, most people would.

 

You nod your head. “Sort of. When you asked me if I was hot a ‘he’s not straight’ flag went up in my head. I wasn’t sure whether or not you were jokin’ or not, though.”

 

He looks at you up and down. “Oh, yeah. That was kind of a half-joke.”

 

You smirk. “Alright.” After a moment of awkward silence, you ask, “Is sleepin’ in the same bed a problem or should I take the hard ass fuckin’ floor?”

 

“I mean, if you had a twin mattress I’d probably ask you to take the floor, but your bed is fucking huge. It can fit two people and a barrier pretty easily.”

 

You roll your eyes. This kid just told you he’s bi, and he’s still trying to pull a ‘no homo’ out on you. “You’ve got to be kiddin’ me about the barrier part.”

 

“I don’t want you to roll on top of me or something in your sleep.”

 

“Whatever, man.”

 

As you get up to begin gathering miscellaneous pillows to form The Great Wall Of No Homo, Sollux asks you a question. “So what was it like growing up like this anyways? Rich as hell, I mean.”

 

“It was kind of nice in the ways you’d expect, like the whole getting stuff without really doing much to earn it kind of way, but it mostly just really lonely.”

 

“Lonely?”

 

“Yeah. Lonely.” You put a handful of pillows down in the middle of your bed, then go into the closet to find more. Your room is meticulously organized, you know exactly where everything should be. “Imagine being a little kid in a house this big where your mother is actively tryin’ to ignore you, and you’re actively tryin’ to ignore your father and your fuckin’ demon of an older brother.” You pause, still looking into the closet. “I used to have fish tanks that I’d spend a lot of time watchin’, but when I went off to boarding school my parents got rid of them. They didn’t want to spend the time keepin’ ‘em clean and stuff.”

 

“That sounds shitty.”

 

“It was really fuckin’ shitty. It got better when I made some friends at school, though. That’s where I met Kar, actually.”

 

You hear Sollux snicker. “Wait, KK went to a ritzy fucking boarding school? He never mentioned that.”

 

“Yeah. He was so smart he got scholarships to go there. And he got a huge fuckin’ merit scholarship for college. Did he ever tell you that?”

 

He shakes his head. “No. He told me some crazy stories about high school, though. They make more sense now that I know that it was a place where rich white people send their kids, though.”

 

You bring more pillows back to build the wall. Tentatively, you ask, “How many of those stories involved me? Or more specifically, the fuckin’ awful shit I did all the time back then?”

 

He smiles. “Kind of a lot. I gotta be honest, I pictured you as a little bit more-”

 

“Terrible?”

 

“Uh. Yeah.”

 

“Yeah, well. I’m kinda tryin’ to put high school behind me. New beginnings and all that.” As your wall seems to be built sufficiently, you sit back down on your side. Putting it into perspective, he’s kind of right. Your bed is unnecessarily huge. “So now it’s your turn. Tell me what it was like growin’ up not filthy rich.”

 

He sits and thinks about it for a minute. “That’s kind of a weird question for me, man. I’ve never met anyone before who didn’t have any clue what the goddamn middle class is like.”

 

“Well,” you say through a scoff, “now you have.”

 

“It was comfortable, I guess that’s how I’d describe it. I had to wait until my birthday to get a new x-box, but in hindsight that stuff doesn’t even seem to matter. If I was hungry there were always pizza rolls in the freezer and there was always someone around to help with my homework.”

 

“Sounds like the fuckin’ American dream.”

 

“It was still weird, though. We weren’t the goddamn Brady Bunch. My dad was gone a lot because of his job, and my brother had his shit going on, but we all managed.”

 

At risk of invading his privacy, you ask, “What’s wrong with your brother?”

 

He gives you a strange look. “Nothing’s wrong with him. He’s just got tourettes, you douche.”

 

“The way you phrased it made it sound like-”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“Sorry.”

 

“It’s fine. It’s always been a tricky topic.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

He looks at you for once and says, “You know, I think wherever you are, growing up sucks to some degree. It’s a process that sucks all across the board, no matter who you are.”

 

You don’t look back. “You are absolutely 100 percent fuckin’ correct in sayin’ that.”

 

“What time is it?”

 

You check your phone. “It’s ten fifteen.”

 

He sighs. “Great time to pretend to be asleep, then.”

 

“Fuckin’ agreed.”

 

You proceed to pretend to be asleep for almost two hours. You actually fall asleep around midnight.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Alright based on the positivity in the comments I think I probably should write a little more than I originally intended to. Since the updates aren't prewritten at this point, they'll come a little slower- I'll be on vacation next week, but expect one after that!

You wake up to see Sollux sitting in the chair across the room, nose shoved into his book once again. Maybe he actually likes it, or maybe there’s just nothing else for him to do since his phone is probably dead. Either way, maybe he’d knock a few bucks off your total tab (560) if you let him keep it. Nobody in this house gives a fuck about whatever novel you fished out of the library for him. You’ve even forgotten the title by now. “When the hell did you wake up?”

 

“Hm?” He doesn’t look up. “4:30.”

 

“Jesus Christ, what time is it now?”

 

“You don’t need Jesus to tell you that, you could just look at your phone.”

 

Not yet awake enough to fully process the joke, you roll over and check your phone. “It’s almost eight.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Is this a normal thing for you?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“That must be awful.”

 

It’s off-putting the way he doesn’t actually look at you when he talks. You don’t know why, but it seems rather impersonal. “It’s not too bad. I got to shower before anyone else woke up. And I saw the sun rise.”

 

“You showered already?”

 

“Well, showering is kind of a loose term. I washed my hair in your sink. The shower has too many buttons. I didn’t want to accidentally release a stream of corrosive acid, so I thought the sink was my best bet.”

 

“It’s just a fuckin’ shower, man.”

 

“A rich people shower.”

 

“Right, right.” You pull yourself out of bed, and see that he took the liberty of putting on one of your shirts. Oh, right. You’re supposed to wear the stupid Star Trek shirt to make your parents uncomfortable. All of this seemed a lot funnier last night.

 

You leave to head for the bathroom. You’re not going to take a shower, and you don’t know why he did when he could have just waited until you dropped him back at his dorm. Either way, he left the sink wet and soapy, which was nice of him. After brushing your teeth and running your hands through your hair a few times, you start heading back to your room. On the way back, you run into your brother.

 

He looks at you for a minute, sleep still heavy in his eyes, and says simply, “You’re fuckin’ gross.”

 

You wink at him and walk back to your room. You hope that means he ended up buying it.

 

Wordlessly, you put on new clothes and that awful fucking nerd shirt. It doesn’t smell badly, like you anticipated it would, but it doesn’t smell good. You make sure that all of your clothes smell good. Maybe that’s just because you’re kind of a prick. You suck it up and put on the t-shirt, then add a sweatshirt for subtlety. You think about going through your whole morning routine, doing your hair up and everything, but you just cannot find it anywhere in you to actually give a shit about your life right now. You’re 560 (probably 570 for some bullshit that feels right at breakfast) in the hole for some stupid stunt that feels petty, looking back. You could’ve just told your mother that you didn’t want to come instead of making an ordeal about it. But that’s what people like you and like your family do. You wish you weren’t so much like them. It’s something you’re working on. On second thought, the whole thing was kind of funny. You resolve to save your regret for when you’re eating ramen.

 

“Ready for breakfast?” you ask.

 

“Should I tone down the asshole act at all?”

 

“Absolutely not.”

 

“Alright then, yeah. I’m ready.”

 

“Alright.”

 

“Yep.”

 

“Cool.”

 

“Definitely.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Sollux gets up and opens the door. “Stop fucking around. I want to leave before your dad makes us stay over again.”

 

Downstairs, you already find your father. You can tell he sees your shirt. You can tell he won’t say anything about it. You can also tell that he wishes you were wearing your own shirt. “Is Mom coming for breakfast?”

 

Your father shakes his head. “No, she’s still sleeping.”

 

You assume that’s code for ‘No, she doesn’t want to deal with you.’ You assume that he assumes you assume that. Your mother sure is flighty.

 

“Extra beauty sleep huh?” Sollux remarks, “She fucking needs it.”

 

Your father smiles at that, the asshole. Can’t he at least give you one tangible fight before you leave? He tells you to help yourself to breakfast before you leave, if there’s time. You agree.

 

After a moment, you hear Cronus shouting to announce his arrival. “Wow, the rain sure was loud last night! Couldn’t get much sleep with the sound of the fuckin’ rain, could you?”

 

You snort. “I slept fine.”

 

“Yeah, I bet.”

 

There’s a lot of fruit laid out on the table, some bread and toast with jam. Not exactly extravagant, but it works.

 

“So rich people are too good for pancakes?” Sollux asks with real bite. You feel like that’s more him speaking than his persona.

 

“I prefer a light breakfast,” your father says calmly. He appears to think for a minute, then says, “Being rich doesn’t mean we have to eat pancakes every morning. We just get the unique opportunity to decide each morning whether we want them or not. Most of the time, I’d rather have jam and toast.”

 

“So you break the backs of all these workers to get the fortune you have now, and then to add insult to injury you’re just sitting here eating wheat toast?”

 

Your father smiles civilly. “I’m eating wheat toast in a chair that costs more than most televisions.”

 

Cronus mutters, “There he goes with the commie shit again.”

 

“What was that?” You ask.

 

Sollux looks at him and straightens his glasses. “You know, yesterday I implied that you jack off to Atlas Shrugged, but I’d actually like to take that back now.”

 

Cronus raises his eyebrows, waiting for the catch.

 

Sollux continues, “You never could’ve gotten through the whole book. I’d like to revise my insult by now implying that you jack off to the spark notes of Atlas Shrugged.”

 

“How long did it take you to think of that one?” He says, rolling his eyes.

 

“Not long at all, actually. The idea just kind of popped into my head. You’d be surprised how exercise can really get the brain working.”

 

“Jesus Christ you’re so fuckin’ disg-”

 

“So,” your father interupts, “Eridan, did either of you need anything else before you go back to campus?”

 

“I’d just like to say goodbye to Mother,” you respond. You don’t really want to say goodbye to your mom, you just want to rub this whole mess in her face one more time before you go.

 

“That’s alright,” he says, “She’s up in our room.”

 

As you and Sollux get up, he stops you. “Maybe you should go alone. I would like to finish my conversation with your friend, anyways.”

 

“Boyfriend,” Sollux corrects instantly.

 

Without waiting for your father’s response, you head upstairs to see your mother. Surely you can elicit some sort of reaction alone. You’ve never needed him to make your mother upset, why should that start now? You open the door a crack to see her propped up on some pillows looking at her phone. “Hi, Mom,” you say quietly, “I didn’t mean to disturb you, I just-”

 

“No, it’s alright. Please, come in for a minute.”

 

You oblige, then sit by the foot of her bed. “We were just about to head out, and I wanted to say goodbye.”

 

“What, your boyfriend didn’t want to come? I can understand why. He made a complete ass of himself, you know.”

 

“No, he did, Father just wanted to talk to him about something. They were still talkin’ about politics when I left.”

 

She shakes her head. “I just don’t know how someone like you could even tolerate someone like that.”

 

“What do you mean by that?”

 

“You’ve always been such a proud boy, Eridan. So well-mannered, too. He seems to lack even basic common sense.”

 

You laugh. “Sometimes, I suppose. But it’s interesting, at least. Maybe that’s just what I need now. A little bit a interestin’.”

 

“Eridan, I know I haven’t been the most supportive of you all the time, and I’m sorry for that, but you don’t need to try and rebel like this.”

 

“I appreciate you sayin’ that.” That was sort of a loaded apology, but it’s almost unheard of for either your mother or father to admit that they were anything less than perfect parents to you. You just want to take what you can get.

 

“I mean, if this whole dating boys thing or whatever you’re doing now is just a cry for attention, you could just talk to me about-”

 

Oh, right, there it is. You mutter, “Fuckin’ hell, Mom.”

 

“I’m just trying to help.”

 

“Yeah, I guess, but you’re doin’ it in the worst way possible.”

 

She doesn’t say anything, just sort of looks at you with those big blue eyes she passed down to you.

 

You bring her into a swift, reluctant side hug. “Goodbye, Mom. I’ll see you soon.”

 

“Goodbye,” she says back.

 

You leave her room with your lips pursed, and thinking about the prospect of crying. You don’t feel at all like you’re actually going to cry, but you just think for a moment about how it might feel nice to cry once in a while, since you hardly ever do it anymore. But, of course, now is not the time for crying, and you feel silly for considering it. If you weren’t pretty far in debt, you’d consider getting absolutely smashed with expensive alcohol when you get back home. You’re not used to it, but you venture that cheap alcohol could get the job done just as well. Or maybe if you ask around, you could score some decent pot. God, what is this, high school? You haven’t even thought of getting stoned since you and Karkat used to smoke in junior year. You head back to the kitchen to finally make your leave.

 

“-okay, there’s many flaws in that argument, but first of all, where would we even get the robots?” Sollux looks over at Cronus and says, “Don’t say privatization.”

 

You clear your throat to announce your arrival, earning a look from your father.

 

“We’re leaving now,” you announce.

 

“Finally,” Cronus mutters.

 

Your father offers to walk you out, but does so mostly in silence. Cronus follows begrudgingly behind.

 

At the door, you say, “Unless there’s anything else I need to do here, I’ll see you next month.”

 

“Next month it is,” you father says, shaking your hand. There’s always been something so especially cold and proper about his mannerisms. You really wish he didn’t scare you. 

 

You take your fake boyfriend’s hand and walk back to your car, which you had parked in the unnecessarily long driveway. Unexpectedly, he pulls you in for another kiss (570). Admittedly, it’s a pretty surefire way to leave both Cronus and your father with a bad taste in their mouths. Since you’re practically done with the whole ordeal, you let yourself admit that he actually is a pretty good kisser, and kiss back. To your surprise, he uses tongue for a few seconds before finally pulling away. You look back at your father, so obviously uncomfortable, and you can barely stifle a laugh. When you’re both comfortably in the car, he says, looking out the window, “That last one was free. The look on your brother’s face was payment enough, I mean, holy shit.”

 

“So the tab’s 560?”

 

“Let’s see 270 base fee, 470 because we overnighted it, about 30 dollars worth of racism so that’s 500, and then… yeah 560 sounds right. To be honest I wasn’t keeping track all that well. I was more focused on being a dick to your family.”

 

“Well, you did a good job at that part.”

 

He’s silent for a moment, simply looking out the window. “I’ll tell you what, why don’t we stop for some breakfast somewhere. If I can get some real fucking pancakes instead of that wheat toast bullshit, then I’ll knock it down to a flat 500.”

 

You scoff. “Breakfast doesn’t cost 60 dollars, dumbass.”

 

“It’s called kindness, but if you’re that insistent I’ll keep it at 530.”

 

“That’s fine.” After letting the last exchange fully set in, you feel like an idiot for not taking the 60 dollar discount without asking stupid questions. Christ, you’re out of it.

 

“Is there an IHOP anywhere around here? Do rich people even eat at IHOP?”

 

“I mean, I don’t fuckin’ eat at IHOP, but I know where one is. I’d have to go through town a little bit, though. I hope you don’t mind takin’ a detour.”

 

“I never mind detours if they’re taken in pursuit of pancakes.”

 

After about 30 minutes, 4 wrong turns, 12 insistences that you weren’t lost, and one admission that you were, the two of you end up at a different IHOP than the one you originally intended to visit. Sollux seems to be fine with it, so you bottle up your shame for the time being and pretend that you are, too. He only makes fun of you once you’ve been seated.

 

“I can’t fucking believe you don’t know how to get to the IHOP in your own hometown. That’s crazy, man.”

 

“Just ‘cause you have a goddamn photographic memory doesn’t mean all of us store useless information like where restaurants are that we never goddamn eat at.” You tack on a “Fuck you,” at the end for extra emphasis.

 

“Woah, no need to get upset about it. I’m just messing around.” He scans the menu then says, “I’m gonna get red velvet pancakes. Those are just pure sugar. It’s incredible. And I swear to God if I see you getting something like whole grain wheat french toast I’m actually going to punch you right here.”

 

“You couldn’t take me in a fight,” you say absent-mindedly.

 

“If you’re the kind of person who tries to order health food at IHOP, I’d sure as hell take that risk.”

 

“It’s not even a fuckin’ risk, though. I would definitively be able to beat your scrawny ass into the ground.”

 

He smirks. “I could still get a few good punches in.”

 

“I was gonna get normal french toast, anyways. No whole wheat ways about it.” That’s a lie, you actually were planning on getting the whole wheat.

 

“Thank God.”

 

A waitress comes by to take your order for drinks, but Sollux tells her you’re ready to order food, too. In addition to his pancakes, he orders an apple juice. You order your french toast and some hot tea.

 

“You know,” Sollux says, “as crazy as it sounds, I actually kind of had fun at your house. It’s a weird sort of a rush to try and get people to hate you.”

 

“Well, I’m glad someone had fun,” you say bitterly.

 

“Sorry,” he replies awkwardly. “I take it you weren’t having as much fun as I was?”

 

“You met my family, right? It’s one thing just to fuck with ‘em, but it’s another to have to deal with ‘em. Like, in real life.”

 

“What do you mean? I’m pretty sure I was dealing with them just as much as you were.”

 

You sigh. “I mean like… I don’t know. Like when I went up to say goodbye to my mom? She accused me of ‘crying for attention’ by coming out. As if I’d actually want her attention anymore.”

 

“That’s… that’s rough,” Sollux says.

 

“Well, at least I know that I pissed her off,” you mutter, “that’s the most I could ask for at this point, right?”

 

“I don’t know, that’s your call.”

 

“You’re right. I shouldn’t be unloading this all on a practical stranger.”

 

Once your drinks are delivered, you check to see if Karkat or Feferi messaged you again. Instead, you find some unexpected texts from your brother. Your brother never texts you unless he wants you to like a photo he posted on Instagram.

 

CA: danny youre nevwer gonna fuckin believwe this

 

CA: fuckin answver youre damn phone wvhen youre not drivwin

 

CA: wwhat do you wwant

 

CA: you knowv your wvierd fuckin boyfriend

 

CA: yes i knoww of him

 

CA: dad fuckin lovwed him

 

CA: WWHAT

 

CA: *wwhat i dont knoww wwhy it capitalized like that

 

CA: yeah he thought his “manners could do wvith improvwin” but he wvas also goin on about howv he wvas a smart kid wvith good prospects and a fuckin backbone

 

CA: i guess he just likes that he just doesnt havwe no fuckin filter n called it a “backbone”

 

CA: wwoww that is

 

CA: that is fuckin somethin right there

 

CA: he an mom just got in a huge screamin match about it too they wvere goin for each others throats

 

CA: cause you could probably tell mom hated him

 

CA: yeah i could tell

 

You wait for a a minute or two, but Cronus doesn’t respond anymore. He never was good at having complete conversations with you. They all seemed to sort of fall away while remaining incomplete. You take a sip from your tea and say, “Sol, you’re never gonna fuckin’ believe this.”

 

He looks up, amused. “What, is there a meteor heading right towards us now or something?”

 

“No even fuckin’ weirder. My father actually liked you.”

 

He’s so shocked, he almost does a spit take. Instead, some apple juice just dribbled down his chin. He wipes it away with his sleeve. The sleeve of your shirt that he’s borrowing, which is expensive. “What the hell?”

 

“Yeah, I know. I guess he liked your guts.”

 

“I mean, there’s a line between being gutsy and just being downright obnoxious, and goddamn, I crossed that line and never looked back.”

 

You shake your head and say, “I don’t know, but I guess he liked that about you.”

 

“Holy shit.”

 

“Yeah, fuck. Holy shit.”

 

You both stare quietly into your drinks for a moment, before he says, almost begrudgingly “You know, if you wanted to keep this shit up a little longer, I wouldn’t mind coming back. And we could work it out so next time doesn’t cost you 530 dollars.”

 

“Hey, if it ever comes up again, I’ll text you, alright?”

 

“Deal.”

 

You let your mind wander just for a moment, and think of the prospect of actually dating this strange guy from your friend’s programming class. It’s not an especially extraordinary thought, but it’s kind of nice for a moment to imagine that you two are actually on a date, instead of at an unfamiliar IHOP eating consolation pancakes. You don’t know him at all, but maybe you could change that. Yeah, that would be nice. Even though his company has been overall insufferable, there’s also something nice about it that you can’t quite put your finger on. God, maybe you’re just desperate. You recall some very regrettable interactions you had at one point with Karkat purely out of desperation. It would be even more embarrassing to pull the same shit with someone you barely know.

 

But, after all, it would be nice. You let yourself pretend just a little bit longer. “I know you told me not to worry about it, but what’s the deal with your glasses anyways?”

 

“Hm?” Sollux looks up from his phone, a little shocked that you’re still talking to him. “I have weird eyes.”

 

“Weird glasses for weird eyes?”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“What do you mean by weird eyes, anyhow?”

 

Instead of answering you, he just takes off his glasses. His left eye is a shade of blue that’s a little bit lighter than yours, but his right eye is a shade of brown you’ve never seen before. It’s almost as if it’s red. “See? My right eye’s kind of fucked up. I can’t see that well out of it, so I have these crazy strong glasses.”

 

“What does that have anything to do with the damn lenses being red and blue?”

 

He smiles, but he looks a little bit sad when he does. “I had them specially made. It’s so no one can make out the colors and ask me stupid questions about them.”

Just then, the waitress arrives with your food, but you feel as if that one tidbit of information has given you more insight about Sollux’s personality than you ever had before, without the need to probe any further. Despite his outward disposition, he must be pretty insecure. He must be a lot like you. And despite your usual reservations surrounding too much sugar, you’re very glad that you didn’t order the wheat french toast.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wrote this last night at 2 am listening to obnoxious dubstep

You’re sure you would have forgotten about the shirt if it weren’t for your neighbor.

His voice makes you jump a little bit when you hear it. The guy has this awful habit of just materializing out of nowhere and startling you with some strange comment. This time, though, he seems to be actually attempting small talk. It makes you jump all the same. “I didn’t know you were into Star Trek. You don’t seem to be the type to be into nerd shit.”

 

“Jesus fuckin’ hell,” you breathe. You turn to face him to see that he’s leaning against the wall drinking a cup of coffee, still in his pajamas. You’d find it strange that he was wearing shades indoors if you gave one inkling of a shit about the guy, but you don’t, so you never bothered to care about his annoying idiosyncrasies. “Yeah,” you say, “Well you thought wrong. I’m a huge Star Trek nerd.” You fish your keys out of your pocket and begin searching for the one to your apartment.

 

“Yeah right. Even if you were, you’d never wear a dingey fucking t-shirt like that.”

 

“You don’t know me.”

 

“I guess not. I know that you’re kind of stuck-up, though.”

 

“Lay off, man. It could be my favorite goddamn show, for all you know.”

 

“Okay. Name 5 characters.”

 

“I don’t need to prove anything to you.”

 

“Fine, easy mode, just name three. You know what? No. Just name one fucking Star Trek character and I will be in awe.”

 

You breathe out and rub the bridge of your nose. Although you’ve found the right key, you can’t seem to tear yourself away from this asinine conversation. “Spock.”

 

“That’s right, I guess, but you’re wearing a Next Gen shirt. Fake fan.”

 

You put the key in and unlock your door. “Have a nice morning, now.”

 

“Yeah, you two.” Your neighbor slinks back into his apartment almost as soon as you’ve entered yours. God, is he weird. You get the sense that he doesn’t even care about Star Trek, and that he just wanted to mess with you.

 

After turning on the lights, the first thing you do is go water your plants. You usually water them in the morning, so you feel guilty for doing it when it’s practically one in the afternoon. After that, you throw the Star Trek shirt on the ground, then fall onto your couch without even putting on a new one. You take a moment to simply close your eyes and register the fact that you are home. 

 

There’s so many things you need to do, you don’t quite know where to start. First, you probably need to bite the bullet and text Feferi back. Then you need pay Sollux. You were going to try and work something out over paypal, but since you forget to exchange shirts again, you might as well pay him in person. Then you’ll need to set another date to pay him the other half- or you could just do that part over paypal. You should probably wring the rest of the details about your parents’ shouting match out of Cronus. You should start on a paper you have due next week for your lit class. It seems like you have simply everything to do, and so little time to do it.

 

You sigh and take out your phone.

 

CA: hey fef so i heard you wwanted to yell at me or somethin

 

CA: wwell im home noww yell your little heart out

 

CC: -Eridan… I don’t want to shell at you!!

 

CA: can you lay off on the fish puns just for today you dont evven knoww howw fuckin tired i am

 

CC: Okay 38/ 

 

CC: Just for today though!!!

 

CA: wwhatevver noww tell me howw immoral i am or wwhatevver youre gonna do if youre not intent on yellin

 

CC: -Eridan, you tell me all the time about how fucked up things are between you and your family. Do you really think messing around will make things better?

 

CA: no of course not

 

CA: nothin could make things better wwith my family

 

CC: I think you’re just telling yourself that because you don’t want to put in the effort.

 

CA: fef

 

CA: effort for WWHAT

 

CA: wwhat the fuck do you expect me to do

 

CC: I don’t know!! TALK? LIK-E NORMAL P-EOPL-E?

 

CA: “hey mom n dad i hate evverything about the wway that you are” yeah that would go ovver great

 

CC: Okay, but what SP-ECIFICALLY- do you hate about them? You can’t hate everything about a person.

 

CA: youre right fef how could i not see before

 

CA: ill think of a list and get back to you

 

CC: Don’t think I can’t read through your sarcasm, mister!

 

CA: i was usin absolutely no sarcasm there fef i probably just need to think critically about what my family does thats really affectin me

 

CC: Wait… really?

 

CA: really as hell

 

CC: 38) Just text me if you want to talk, okay!? I’m sorry for being kind of hard on you before, but I only want the best!

 

CA: yeah i knoww

 

CA: wwe should get lunch or somethin tomorroww

 

CC: Definitely. I’m available all day tomorrow!!

 

CA: okay see you then

 

You have absolutely no intention of making a list or thinking critically about anything. You just wanted to get her off your back. She’ll probably try and bring it up tomorrow, but you can tell her you’re still working on your fucking list and she’ll forget about it eventually. You look at your phone again, ready to dive back into your next item of unfinished business.

 

CA: alright so two payements of 265 dollars

 

CA: wwhen do you wwant the first one

 

TA: hello two you two.

 

TA: idc man whenever you want to giive iit two me. and al2o you 2tiill have my 2hiirt.

 

CA: yeah i just realized

 

CA: anyways

 

CA: wwhat about later today i can just stop by your dorm again

 

TA: yeah that2 fiine.

 

TA: ju2t tell me when youre out2iide.

 

CA: so i dont evven get to come into your dorm wwere just gonna do this shady cash exchange out in the open

 

TA: iits not shady thii2 ii2nt a drug deal lol.

 

CA: its not shady but it looks shady

 

CA: and besides i dont wwant people actually seein this cash and clothing exchnage and wwonderin wwhat the hell is goin on because id rather people not find out about this if possible

 

TA: ii gue22 ii under2tand that.

 

TA: wanna meet iin the wood2 iin2tead?

 

CA: no wwhat the hell ill just drop by your room

 

CA: unless theres some secretive illegal shit you keep in there that im not supposed to see or somethin i dont see wwhat the huge fuckin deal is

 

TA: okay iit2 fiine

 

TA: room 413 text me when youre iin the lobby

 

CA: yeah

 

TA: yeah

 

You don’t text back after that, and instead opt to leave your apartment to withdraw 265 dollars. As soon as you exit, though, you hear your neighbor call, “Put on a shirt.”

 

“Right,” you respond, not even taking a minute to register how strange it is that he came out again just to harass you. Or rather, in this case, sort of help you. You pull on a shirt, grab the one that you left in a heap on the floor, and head out again.

 

“There you go, tiger.”

 

“Thanks.”

 

After stopping at the bank, you arrive at the Skaia lobby approximately half an hour later.

 

CA: im in the lobby can i head up noww

 

TA: no waiit a 2econd

 

CA: wwhat the hell could you possible be doin that necessitates me sittin here on this shitty couch like a fool

 

TA: dont worry about it.

 

CA: i mean if you cant take literally twwo minutes awway from wwhat youre doin then honestly im a little bit wworied about it

 

TA: alriight fiine head up but iim not goiing to be able to stay and 2hoot the fuckiing breeze okay? iim a bu2y guy.

 

CA: yeah i bet

 

CA: headin up noww

 

You get one or two strange looks from people eyeing the shirt you’re carrying, but for the most part, you go pretty unnoticed on your journey to room 413. When you knock, you hear a little bit of shuffling behind the door.

 

“One second!”

 

You tap your foot impatiently. “I’m waitin’.”

 

He opens the door, only looking slightly disheveled. “Hey.”

 

“Hey,” you say, sort of mocking him. 

 

The two of your stare at each other for a few seconds before he asks, “Can I have my shit? Like I said, I’m a little busy.”

 

You hold the shirt and the money tightly to your chest. “Not until you tell me what the hell you’re doin’ in there.”

 

He rolls his eyes. “It’s stupid. Just-” He tries to grab the shirt, but you pull it back.

 

“Nope.”

 

“Come on, stop being an asshole.”

 

You look away instead of responding.

 

He sighs. “Fine. You’ve gotten your way because you threw a tantrum. Congrats.” He pulls open the door, lets you inside, then shuts it abruptly.

 

“God, if I didn’t know any better, I’d think you were doing something illegal here.”

 

“I am.”

 

You raise your eyebrows at him, inconspicuously looking around the room for signs of dead bodies or crack cocaine. “I don’t-”

 

“Calm down, it’s nothing bad. Just… technically illegal.” He goes to sit at the desk in the room, laptop open. “I told you that I’m into computer stuff, right?”

 

You can barely suppress a laugh when you ask, “You’re not hackin’ someone right now, are you?” You place the shirt and cash bundle down on the bed, and stand next to him so that you can see the screen. Since there’s only one bed in the room, you assume that he lives in a single. 

 

He smirks.

 

You look at the mess of code on his screen and ask, “I don’t understand why you said you were so busy. It looks like you’re just writing an essay or somethin’. A coding essay.”

 

“It takes a hell of a lot of focus.” He furrows his brow and writes another line of code.

 

“What are you even doing?”

 

“Writing the script for a virus.”

 

“Who are you gonna send it to?”

 

“Some asshole who deserves it.”

 

“What does it do?”

 

“Stop asking so many goddamn questions.”

 

“Excuse me for bein’ curious.”

 

He grunts in response. You watch him for a little bit, silently, and he lets you. It’s nice. Maybe if someone didn’t have the context and they walked in the room, they would see two people who were genuinely friends rather than whatever weird relationship the two of you have at this point. It’s nice to think that people would think that.

 

Your moment stops pretty abruptly when he asks, “Did you need anything else or…?”

 

“I guess not,” you say, getting up, “watchin’ you write that is just kind of transfixin’.”

 

By the look on his face, he takes it as a compliment, and a pretty big one at that. You imagine that hackers don’t usually have fans. More often, they probably have the opposite. “I’ll tell you what, when I finish it, you’ll be the first to know.” He adds, as an afterthought, "Even before the person who gets it." 

 

“Can’t wait find out what it does.” You head to the door hoping for some reason that he’ll ask you to stay so he can actually explain what it does. You don’t know if you care, you’d just kind of like to not leave. You like the idea that someone would want to spend time with you.

 

“See you around,” he calls, before you close the door.

 

Almost immediately upon leaving, you pull out your phone to adress the next task at hand.

 

CA: any updates on the parent situation

 

Surprisingly, Cronus responds right away. It usually takes him hours to get back to your texts.

 

CA: yeah its fuckin vweird danny

 

CA: the screamin stopped but they aint speakin to each other

 

CA: at all?

 

CA: nope

 

CA: theyre both kinda flightly but not like this

 

CA: yeah it seems wweird

 

CA: its really damn vweird

You don’t respond to him, because he’s effectively given you all of the information you need for now. Apparently you made a much bigger rift than you had actually intended to. After what? Thinking you’re better than your family for all these years, then you come in and pull some bullshit like that. You should probably feel guilty about what you did, anxious at least. Maybe you should stop wallowing in self-loathing long enough to make a list about your family problems. You don’t think about any of that, though. You think about the skinny boy with messy hair hunched over his computer, and you wonder what his stupid virus does. You reach your car and put the key in the ignition with every intention of sleeping off silly thoughts like those.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i know getting the characters drunk is a little bit of a cop out but I had to move the plot forward somehow. also I love the ppl who comment on this youre all so nice and make my day

Feferi definitely has the money for an apartment, so you’ve never quite been able to understand why she chose to live in a dorm. As long as you have the option not to use community bathrooms, you’d much rather not to. She said it’s because she likes having the full college experience, whatever that means. The way you see it, you’ll both get a degree in the end either way. You just have your own bathroom while you’re getting it.

 

“And then,” she says, thoughtfully continuing a story she’s telling you, “he asked for my phone number! Can you believe the gall of some of these guys?”

 

“Wow, he sounds like he sucks, Fef.” You look absentmindedly out of the cafe window, and take a sip of your water. Wow, ordering water when you’re out to lunch. Never in your life did you think you’d actually have to budget. 

 

“You sure you’re okay Eridan? You still sound a little bit off.”

 

“Hm?” You perk your head up to look at her. She’s very pretty in the very traditional sense of the word. If she weren’t so interested in fish or social justice or whatever the hell she’s actually majoring in, she could’ve had a pretty decent modeling career. Maybe not. You’ll never know, though. “Yeah I’m fine. I’m still tired though. Who thought of naps anyways? They just fuck up your entire sleepin’ schedule for a while. Fuck naps.”

 

She laughs at you and gives you one of those classic Feferi pity smiles. “I’m guessing you still don’t want to talk about it?”

 

You shake your head. “You’re always tryin’ to meddle in my issues that don’t need meddlin’ in. Just- just tell me somethin’ else about your day. What did you say to that creepy dickwad who wanted your number?”

 

She takes another bite of her sandwich. “Oh, I just told him I had a boyfriend.”

 

“You shouldn’t lie to the guy. You should’ve just told him to fuck off.”

 

“You have absolutely no idea what it’s like to be a girl, do you?”

 

“Guess not. It just seems fucks up that he wouldn’t take plain no for an answer.”

 

“Yeah, it’s a little fucked up, but what are you and I going to do about it?” She laughs in that good-natured way she does, then watches you for a moment. “If that little stunt you pulled put you too much in debt, I’ll pick up the tab.”

 

“No, I’ve got enough money on me to pay for a fuckin’ sandwich. This is just a glorified grilled cheese; it’s cheap as hell.” You shake your head and sort of hope she insists to pay again. Knowing Feferi, she will.

 

She does. “Eridan, I insist that you let me pick up the tab. Or should I say… the crab.”

 

“Alright, thanks.” You don’t even roll your eyes at the pun, because she’s been incredibly nice to you today. You think that sometimes you might take your childhood best friend for granted.

 

She calls over the waiter to get the check. He looks like he’s a college student too, with about average looks. He has nice hair, though, that’s something.

 

As she gives him her card, you say to her, “We should go out sometime next week. I’ll buy you lunch then. I don’t like acceptin’ charity like this.”

 

“Erifin, it’s fine.”

 

“No, no I promise I’ll buy you lunch.” You don’t like to feel like you owe people things, and in the case of Feferi Peixes, you feel you you’ve been completely coasting on her kindness for the past two days.

 

She rolls her eyes, and sort of laughs. Maybe she’s laughing at you, but you think she’s laughing with you. “Alright, just tell me the time when you get in control of your finances again.” Before the waiter comes back, she asks, “So did you want to do anything else? The night’s still young, after all!”

 

“You know,” you say, a little bit tired of her positivity, “I think I’m just going to head home and take another fuckin’ nap. I know they mess up my sleepin’ schedule and all, but I’m really damn tired.”

 

The waiter returns with the check, and wishes the two of you a good afternoon. You wonder if he thinks that you and Feferi are dating, like a lot of people used to think. You wouldn’t be surprised, especially since she picked up the tab. Feferi wishes him a good afternoon in return, and you leave a 15 percent tip with the singles you have wadded up in your wallet. Usually you’ll leave 10 percent like your father does, but the waiter was kind of cute and you’re trying to be a little bit less like your family. Maybe leaving an extra dollar for a tip is a good way to start.

 

You drop her off at her dorm before heading to your apartment. You don’t want to sleep, but you can’t think of anything else you actually want to be doing.

 

CA: hey kar

 

CA: howw are you doin on this fine afternoon im great

 

CA: francos doin wwell

 

CA: i gotta keep my apartment a little bit wwarmer for his sake but i think its doin the rest of my plants good too

 

CA: vvlad is lookin greener more perky n shit

 

CA: i think caesar might have bigger flowers this year

 

CG: AFTER FIVE YEARS OF INTIMATE FRIENDSHIP ID THINK THAT YOUD BE ABLE TO TELL ME WHAT IN THE EVER LOVING FUCK YOU WANT FROM ME WITHOUT MEANDERING ABOUT PLANTS YOU NAMED AFTER HEINOUS MURDERERS, BUT I GUESS I THOUGHT WRONG!

 

CA: come on you lovve the fuckin plants

 

CG: WHAT DO YOU WANT.

 

CA: do you havve any alcohol wwith you

 

CG: I DONT KEEP THAT SHIT IN MY DORM, MAN. YOU KNOW THE RAS PRACTICALLY JACK OFF TO CATCHING PEOPLE WITH ALCOHOL.

 

CA: okay heres my proposition:

 

CA: i pick you up

 

CA: wwe buy some fuckin vvodka from that store that doesnt question my fake id

 

CA: you come to my apartment

 

CA: and wwe just get completely shitfaced

 

CG: ITS ONE PM ON SUNDAY AND WE BOTH HAVE CLASSES TOMORROW.

 

CA: youre only young once kar

 

CA: come on your classes dont evven start until noon i knoww that for a fact

 

CG: JUST LET ME PUT ON A CLEAN SHIRT OKAY?

 

CA: ill swwing by in half an hour

 

You return to your apartment, Karkat and two full bottles of vodka in tow, one hour later.

 

“You two gonna get wasted?” your strange neighbor asks. You hate that he freaks you out every single time. He makes Karkat physically jump.

 

Before Karkat can start yelling at him, you just answer, “Yep,” and unlock the door. He seems like the kind of guy who would really get under Karkat’s skin.

 

“Be responsible,” your neighbor calls as you close the door, “Don’t drink and drive!”

 

Karkat places a bottle on the table and asks you, a little bit pissed off, “Who is that guy anyways? I only saw him for five seconds and he managed to be both weird and condescending. Also, he wears sunglasses inside, like a fucking douchebag.” Great, he was there just long enough to get your angry little friend riled up.

 

You shrug and turn on the lights. “I think his name’s Dave, but don’t quote me on that. Most of his sctick’s just a weird attempt at humor.”

 

“Well it’s not very funny.”

 

“Do yourself a favor. Shut up and pour yourself a shot.”

 

He complies, albeit begrudgingly. Six shots later, and you’re both pretty drunk.

 

“You know, Eridan,” Karkat half-says, half-slurs, “you never told me much about that dinner you had with your family and captain lispwad.”

 

“Who?”

 

“Sollux. That- that lispy fucker.”

 

“Oh yeah, him. He does have a huge fuckin’ lisp doesn’t he? What asshole put an ‘s’ in lisp anyways? That’s pretty cruel.”

 

“Yeah, I guess. What the hell did you guys do, though?”

 

You’re sitting on the couch, legs stretched out, and he’s sitting on an armchair facing you. For kind of an inexpensive apartment, you have a pretty nice setup. “I don’t know,” you respond lazily, “He made fun of my stupid asshole brother a lot. He ate food with his hands. Talked about JFK-”

 

“Did he talk about those goddamn conspiracy theories he’s always on about?”

 

You laugh, “Yeah, ha, he was fuckin’ great with that shit.”

 

“For someone so goddamn rational he sure knows a lot about the illuminati.”

 

“Yeah. It’s sort of admirable in the way that it’s also fuckin’ weird.”

 

Karkat pulls out his phone and starts tapping on it. He’s probably playing that stupid app he only plays when he’s drunk for some reason. Probably because mind-numbing phone games like that are only fun for him when he’s drunk. “What else happened?”

 

“I dunno. I showed him around the house n’ then we went to sleep. N’ then we woke up n’ he said the toast sucked so we got pancakes.”

 

“Did you guys kiss at all?” Karkat’s usually kind of tactless, but even more so when he’s drunk.

 

“Who wants to know?”

 

“You’re being weird about this so you definitely did.”

 

You start to pour another shot, sort of contemplating whether or not it’s a good idea, then going for it anyways after deciding it’s not. “Okay, but why the fuck do you care?”

 

“I told- I told you, it’s just like a goddamn-”

 

“Shut up-”

 

“It’s like a goddamn romcom where-”

 

“Jesus fucking shit, Kar, not everyone cares about fuckin’ romcoms. In fact, no one actually does except you, so. So you’re a dumbass.”

 

“You’re being so fucking defensive.”

 

You take your seventh shot, refusing to answer him. You don’t have anything to be defensive about. Karkat’s just prying into your life, like usual. It seems like everyone’s always trying to pry into your life affairs.

 

Karkat laughs to himself for a minute.

 

“What?”

 

He smirks. “So how was it, anyways?”

 

You roll your eyes. “It was fine.”

 

“Okay.”

 

You say impulsively, in the way that drunk people tend to do, “I mean, he’s kind of hot, after all.”

 

Karkat looks up from his phone. “I’m gonna tell him you said that.”

 

You put your shot glass on the coffee table and look at him, shocked. “Okay, no, don’t fuckin’ do that-”

 

“I’m absolutely going to fucking do that, just watch.” He looks like he’s dialing a phone number or something.

 

“Okay- fuck- okay serious- seriously don’t do that.”

 

He dials a number, then puts the phone on speaker so you can hear the ringing. You cross over to Karkat to try and take his phone, but he keeps holding it away from you.

 

“Hello?” you hear on the other line. The voice sounds like the vaguely nasally and annoying one you’ve gotten to know as Sollux Captor.

 

“Hey, what’s up, Sollux?”

 

“Give me the-”

 

“KK, are you drunk? You never call me. Who’s that with you?”

 

“It’s none of your fucking business if I’m drunk. But that’s just Ampora with me, who also may or may not be drunk.”

 

“Okay, this is asinine and all, but why did you call me? Do you need me to pick you up somewhere?”

 

“Kar, I swear to God if-”

 

“Yeah, no, it’s fine. I just called to tell you that Ampora thinks you’re hot.”

 

“What are you t-”

 

Before Karkat can say anything else, you grab his phone, and hang up the call. “You’re a dick when you’re drunk.”

 

“I’m not drunk,” he asserts, “just tipsy.”

 

“Yeah, okay.”

 

You hear someone bang on the door, then yell, “That doesn’t sound like drinking responsibly!”

Karkat tells your neighbor to fuck off. Normally, you’d wonder why he was lurking in front of your door, but you screaming at Karkat was probably loud enough for him to hear from inside his own apartment. You think it’s about time both of you tried to sober up a little bit. The two of you let your neighbor, who as it turns out is a little bit less of an asshole than you though, come in and make you a pot of coffee. For someone who wears shades indoors, he's awfully nice about the whole affair. 


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> My best estimate is that this will have maybe 3 or 4 more chapters? I don't know. Enjoy the fluff.

When you wake up Sunday morning, slightly hungover and severely disoriented, you notice a text waiting for you. For a minute, you look around for Karkat, before vaguely remembering that your neighbor offered to drive him home, what with his whole thing for drinking responsibly. Turns out that part wasn’t ironic, it was just nice. In the privacy of your now empty apartment, you look at your phone, preparing for the worst.

 

TA: 2o ii hear you thiink iim hot.

 

CA: oh my god

 

TA: 2o diid you get a liittle 2omethiing extra out of makiing out wiith me on the hood of your car?

 

CA: jesus christ im so sorry sol kar and i wwere really fuckin drunk and that just sort of slipped out

 

CA: i dont wwanna creep you out here i absolutely wwas NOT getting somethin “extra”

 

CA: if at all possible please forget that drunk ass fuckin idiot kar evver called you

 

TA: ehehe holy shiit.

 

TA: ii just wanted to me22 wiith you a liittle ii diidnt thiink you would be 2o mortiifiied about the whole thiing. 

 

CA: wwouldnt you be mortified

 

TA: ii mean not really. iim pretty sure ii called you hot when you sent a picture of your2elf two me. or maybe ii saiid attractiive? 2ee ii dont even remember. iit2 becau2e ii dont have an aneury2m every tiime ii 2tate an empiirical fact.

 

CA: okay but you just of casually mentioned it at an appropriate time

 

CA: i made a jackass out of myself when i wwas drunk

 

TA: between you and me ii thiink kk looked more liike a jacka22.

 

TA: ii read 2omewhere that beiing drunk exacerbates 2omeones already exi2tiing traiit2 2o iit2 not 2urprii2iing that kk thiink2 he can play matchmaker when he2 wa2ted.

 

CA: hes always been a wweird romantic

 

TA: yeah. you wouldnt expect iit of hiim but that2 how he ii2.

 

CA: its endearin when its not annoyin

 

TA: hey iill tell you what. ii thought iit wa2 funny when kk called me but if youre really that up2et about it ii wont briing iit up agaiin.

 

CA: thanks it means a lot

 

CA: is it alright if i swing by with the rest a your money on friday

 

TA: yeah that2 okay.

 

CA: ok

 

TA: yep.

 

CA: yeah

 

TA: have a good day now.

 

CA: you too

 

You take a deep breath. So he wasn’t all that creeped out after all, and you can breathe easy. You thought for sure that Sollux would hate you, even though it seems like a pretty stupid fear, in hindsight. For one, this is a guy you’ve literally made out with in front of your entire family. Second, it’s a guy you’re not even really close with, just sort of connected through a shady business deal. Of course, it would be a shame to alienate him before you found out what his virus does. Or maybe, it would just be ashame to alienate someone that you’ve begun to consider a tentative sort of friend.

 

Yeah, friend. 

 

You don’t think about him much during the week. It’s just a passing thought every now and again while you’re zoning out in class. You think vaguely about seeing him on Friday. You think that maybe you’ll ask him about his coding again, or how you’ll finally be able to buy Feferi a lunch to make up for Saturday.

 

You find yourself outside of dorm 413, grasping a handful of twenties, tens, and fives, on Friday afternoon, just as you promised. 

 

You knock, hear a little bit of shuffling, then knock again.

 

Finally, he answers. He looks less disheveled than last time, but he sure as hell doesn’t look put together. He’s wearing a stained t-shirt and sweatpants.

 

“Hey,” you say.

 

“Hey,” he responds, sort of waggling his eyebrows, “pretty hot, huh?”

 

“I thought we established already that I could beat your scrawny ass in a fight.”

 

“And I thought I established that some things are worth taking a punch for. Like french toast. And mocking people.”

 

“You said you’d stop bringin’ it up.”

 

“Yeah, sorry. I couldn’t help myself there. I’m only human, after all. But I won’t bring it up again.”

 

You put out your hand holding the money. “Here.”

 

He takes it, counts the bills as if he didn’t expect you to pay the right amount. Or if he didn’t think you knew how to count.

 

“Did I cheat you?” You ask sarcastically.

 

“Nah, it’s all there. I just like to count, man, no need to get defensive. Everyone makes mistakes.”

 

“Alright.”

 

He leans against the doorframe, and you pick at your nails, but neither one of you makes a move to leave your encounter. Finally, he says, “You wanna come in for a minute?”

 

“For what?”

 

“You remember last Saturday when I was programming that virus?”

 

“That’s kind of hard to forget about, Sol.”

 

He tells you, with this huge shit-eating grin, “Yeah, well. I finished it yesterday. All done and ready to be unleashed.”

 

It occurs to you that he could have unleashed it yesterday when he finished it, but waited for when you’d be there to see it. It makes you happy in this strange and subtle way when people give you tangible clues that indicate that they actually want you around. “Can’t wait to see it.”

 

You follow him inside, and take the same seat you look last week next to his desk. It doesn’t feel familiar, really, but it feels right.

 

“Okay,” he says, sitting down, “I’m behind a lot of proxies here, you know proxies? So it’s harder to trace back my signal? Anyways, that’s not important. I’m pretty hard to track, but I’m going to send her a fake email that looks really official asking her to download this new chrome update, telling her she can’t get on the internet if she doesn’t install it within 5 days. But really, she’s going to download my malicious software, and I’ll have access to her computer. I can wreak havoc, then. I’ll delete all her files and shit. Throw those fuckers into oblivion, man.”

 

“Christ,” you mutter, “what the hell did she do to deserve that?”

 

“Oh, a lot of awful bullshit. Most notably she pushed a disabled kid down the stairs.”

 

“That’s fucked up.”

 

“She’s a fucked up kind of girl.”

 

You stir a little bit on the floor, and feel the carpet. It’s probably dirty, but you don’t mind right now. You like having company, and you like feeling wanted. “Does she go here?”

 

“No, I went to highschool with her. But I still hear about the bad shit she does to people. Just trust me here, she deserves it.”

 

“How do you know she’s even gonna click your link?”

 

He shrugs. “I don’t. I made it look like it’s from google, though, so there’s a pretty good chance she will. And if she doesn’t, I can always try again. I have full confidence that if I keep trying, she’ll eventually click on at least one of my bullshit emails. It’s like… a universal law or something. If you dig enough random holes in the ground, you’re probably going to find at least one beetle.”

 

“Why would you want to find a beetle?”

 

“That’s not the important part of the metaphor, ED. The important part is that I found the fucking beetle.”

 

ED? You’re pretty sure the two-letter thing is something he reserves for friends. You let his bullshit slide and smirk. He’s too focused on his screen to notice. “So let’s see it, then.”

 

You see him click a few times, compose an email, then click send. “Done,” he announces, looking accomplished.

 

“That’s it?”

 

“That’s all from my end, for now. We just wait to see if she opened it.”

 

“How will you know if she does?”

 

“My virus will alert me when she does. Then I can fuck shit up.”

 

Without thinking, you say, “I’d like to be around to see that. The fuckin’ shit up part.”

 

He laughs. “Yeah, I don’t blame you.” You take it that he’s really proud of all this crazy shit he does with computers. You would be if you were him.

 

Again, the two of you just sit kind of awkwardly for a moment, like you don’t know whether or not to leave and he doesn’t know whether or not to kick you out. To draw you out of it, your phone rings. “I should take this.”

 

He asks, as if it were any of his business, “Who is it? If it’s kk stick around so I can yell at him a little.”

 

You look at the caller ID, genuinely surprised and a little bit nervous. “It’s my father.”

 

He laughs, “Okay, stick around anyways, maybe I can say something weird to him.”

 

“Yeah… yeah alright.” You look at it for a minute without picking up. Your father doesn’t normally call you, so you have this sinking feeling in your guy that something bad is going to happen.

 

Sollux prompts you to pick it up, so you do.

 

“Hello?”

 

“Eridan?”

 

“Yeah, it’s me.”

 

Your father clears his throat. “Are you in class now?”

 

“No,” you pause before adding, “I’m in Sollux’s dorm.”

 

“Oh. What are you doing there?”

 

That’s kind of strange question, considering that your father still believes the two of you to be dating. However, the question does prompt you to wonder what you actually are still doing in his dorm. “I’m… he was showin’ me somethin’ he programmed on his computer. Didn’t he tell you about the programmin’ stuff he does? He’s very good at it.”

 

“That’s interesting,” your father says gruffly.

 

“Sol wants to say hi, is that okay?” You look at him, and he nods.

 

Your father takes a few seconds to respond. “No, Eridan, that’s okay. I called because I have to tell you something.”

 

He sounds tense. You shake your head no at Sollux. “Alright.”

 

“I’m divorcing your mother.”

 

“What?” You can’t believe it. You would joke with Cronus from time to time about how bad your parents’ marriage was, but it seems surreal and upsetting to think that they’re actually ending it. You feel guilty and you feel like your bullshit with Sollux caused it. “That’s a pretty heavy decision to make, father.”

 

He snaps at you, because he doesn’t like accepting advice from his children. He never had much of a sensitive side. “You think I don’t know?”

 

“I’m sorry.”

 

Your father sighs. “It’s okay.” You’re quiet, and your father takes it as his cue to continue. “If you want to drive back here sometime soon, I could explain it all to you in person. You know I hate these godawful contraptions.”

 

You look at Sollux, who looks both worried and uncomfortable. You wonder if it would be ethical to bring him even deeper into your family drama. If he’d even be willing, that is. If he’s not, you can always go alone. “I can come on Sunday.”

 

Sollux raises his eyebrows at you.

 

“See you then.” Your father hangs up on you. It would be nice, for once, to hear him say ‘goodbye’. 

 

You put your phone back into your pocket and realize that your hands are shaking. It’s not terrible, but it’s noticeable and you bet that he can see it too.

 

“What’s happening Sunday?”

 

“My father wants me to come back home again.”

 

Sollux clicks at something on the screen of his computer and asks, “And why does he want you back so soon?”

 

You shrug, trying to play it off like it’s nothing. “He wants to talk to me about somethin’. He said he’s divorcin’ my mom.”

 

“Oh. I’m… I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s okay. You didn’t do nothin’. It was my stupid fault anyways.”

 

“Come on, you can’t actually think that, can you? You told me in the car that your mom wanted to divorce him anyways, didn’t you? It sounds like it was a long time coming, no matter what stupid pranks you pulled.”

 

Although you usually pride yourself on your ability to keep your composure, you feel your eyes start to water and your voice start to shake. Crying over your parents’ divorce? What are you, a little kid? “Cronus told me they had a huge fight after we left. But whatever. It’s fuckin’ stupid.”

 

Sollux looks unsure of what he should be doing. He looks like he considers placing a hand on your shoulder, decides against it, then puts it back on his desk. “Maybe they had a fight about that, but so what? If it wasn’t about me, they would’ve had a fight about something else. If their marriage was any good in the first place they should have been able to handle that.”

 

“I guess you’re right.” You wipe your eyes and decide that you won’t cry. You won’t do that in someone else’s dorm who has no obligation to comfort you, but is trying to do so anyways. “I feel like shit about it anyways, though.”

 

This time, he does actually put his hand on your shoulder. It’s awkward as all hell, but the gesture is so nice that you decide to let it go and just be thankful. “It’s… it’s alright. God, that must be shitty. I don’t even know what to say, ED.”

 

“I don’t know either. It’s weird. I don’t even like my parents.”

 

“It’s always hard when things like that change. I don’t blame you.”

 

You sniff, confident that you’re over your crying spell. “Thanks.” You kind of wish that you just let it happen, though, instead of suppressing your emotions like usual. It would be refreshing. 

 

“Do… do you want me to come with you on Sunday? So… you know… so you don’t have to go alone?”

 

You smile, which probably looks pathetic under your red face and puffy eyes. “You would do that?”

 

“Yeah, of course. I’d feel like shit if I just let you deal with this problem on your own even though I sort of partially caused it. The fight part, I mean, not really the divorce part.”

 

You shake your head. “How much?”

 

He taps his fingers on the desk. “Consider this as complementary. I jipped you on the last one. 530 was way too much.”

 

Your eyes widen at him. He’s sheepish, weird, lispy, sarcastic, rude, completely insecure, defensive, and he never quite looks you in the eye when he talks, but under all the bullshit, he seems like an incredibly decent human being. You might even venture to say that he’s a pretty good person. “God, thank you.”

 

“I’m not God, just Sollux Captor.”

 

You roll your eyes. “Right, how could I forget?”

 

He shrugs. “Common mistake.”

 

You begin to get up, but are interrupted when he practically shouts, “She opened it!”

 

“What?” you ask.

 

“The virus! She downloaded it! Ha- this bitch’s computer is hacked! Fasten your seatbelt ladies and gentlemen, things are about to get exciting.”

 

You resituate yourself next to his computer and smile widely. “Let’s wreak some fuckin’ havoc, then.”

He lets you do the honor of deleting the first document, and you feel, for a moment, like there’s nothing in your life that’s wrong.


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey sorry if this seems to be going kind of quickly, but I want to end this fic before school starts for me so I can actually focus on academics lol. Hopefully these next two chapters will be enough to tie it up, thanks for sticking around so long!!

It’s a bit chilly for a day in May. It’s still early May, of course, but the breeze you feel through your window is more characteristic of October. You tap the fingers of your left on the side of your car, while your right remains firmly on the wheel. You think about texting Sollux, telling him to get his sorry ass out here so you can begin to get this encounter with your father over with, but you’re a few minutes early and figure that you should allow him to have the time he presumed he would have to get ready. You snort at that thought. ‘Getting ready’ for him probably entails throwing on his least disgusting t-shirt and running his fingers through his hair. Either way, you decide to let him do it on his own terms. While you’re sort of in a rush, you’re also sort of procrastinating.

 

He comes out exactly on time, wearing something that’s actually somewhat flattering. You didn’t tell him to wear something stupid again, so it’s only natural that he came out wearing semi-normal clothes. The reason you’re so taken aback is that you realize you’ve never actually seen him wearing normal clothes. Dirty sweats, grimy t-shirts, your shirts, all yes, but never what he actually wears on a day to day basis. It’s surreal. You feel at once as if you’ve crossed the threshold to becoming actual friends. Maybe more, maybe less, but somewhere in the ballpark of friendship.

 

More? You ask yourself, a little embarrassed at the thought.

 

Yes, of course. You don’t know much of anything about the guy’s dating past, but you bet you’ve gotten a lot closer to him than most people have. In the physical sense, at least.

 

“Sup,” he says, opening the car door, “I’m still wary about getting inside this ritzy-ass car, you know.”

 

“You shouldn’t be, besides, you look nicer than you did last time.”

 

You don’t look at him straight on, but see him raise his eyebrows out of the corner of your eye. He buckles his seatbelt and continues, “So… pretty hot, huh?”

 

You aggressively shift from park back into drive and say, just as aggressively, “No, I mean you’re not wearing a weird dirty t-shirt.”

 

“Point taken.”

 

You drive about as recklessly as is your habit for about five minutes before he starts up a conversation again. “You don’t think your dad will make us stay the night again, do you? I mean, I brought my phone charger this time just in case, but I’d rather not.”

 

“Believe me, if the sky shows one sign of rain, you n’ me are gettin’ the hell outta there within the fuckin’ minute.”

 

He laughs. “I take it you’re not too jazzed about this whole thing?”

 

“God, no. Of course I’m not. My father’s weird about stuff like this. He makes everythin’ exponentially more shitty than it has to be. But you know that. You’ve met him.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Yep.”

 

“Mhm.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

He’s quiet for a minute before asking, “You don’t want me to fuck with him and your brother much this time, do you? I mean, I gotta fuck with ‘em a little, but I-”

 

“No, no,” you interrupt, “Fuck with them all you want. I’m not payin’ you extra for it, but you can say whatever the hell pops into your head. Go crazy.”

 

He looks out the window, taking in the day. It’s chilly, but it looks no less like Spring should. The trees along the highway have all gotten their leaves back, and wildflowers decorate the sides of the road. It’s strangely beautiful how nature will always persist in some capacity, no matter how many superhighways and skyscrapers that people build. There’s always something of it that bounces back, defiant. “Strong words for a guy who cried when he learned he parents were splitting.”

 

You sigh, “Please don’t rub that in my face. You and your perfect family.”

 

“I’m not rubbing it in,” he says absent-mindedly, “I’m just saying that it’s bugging you a lot more than you’re letting on.”

 

You don’t respond. Whether you fight with him or not, he’s just going to push the topic further. The only way to win that conversation is to opt out, you think.

 

Or, evidently not, because he takes your silence as a cue to persist anyways. “You know you don’t have to pretend everything’s fine all the time, right?”

 

You roll your eyes. “Yeah, okay. Who the hell would listen to me blubber on n’ on about my problems for however the hell long that would take?”

 

He shrugs, still looking out the window. He never looks at you when he talks, he still never does. He’s must be too preoccupied with the wildflowers. “I don’t know. Me, for one.”

 

You take your eye off the road, if only for a second, to look at him. He meets your eyes for a second, then looks back out the window. Behind the tint of his glasses, you swear you can almost see the real coloring of his eyes. And you realize you’ve been an idiot. You realize that you’ve been angry at the world for refusing to conform to your standards when you’ve been just as stubborn as everyone else. You’ve been just as headstrong as your father, as passive-aggressive as your mother, and as selfish as your brother. “Are you hungry?” You ask Sollux.

 

He perks up at the mention of food. “Yeah, definitely. I’m always hungry, you should know that by now.”

 

And in making what is perhaps the boldest move of your life, you say, “There’s a really good restaurant at the next exit. My parents used to go there all the time when me n’ Cro were kids. I’d pay and everythin’.”

 

“Isn’t your dad gonna have dinner?”

 

You smirk, catching a glimpse of a particularly colorful patch of wildflowers on the side of the highway. “Fuck him.”

 

“So you’d throw your own father under the bus just to ask me on a date? That’s pretty ballsy of you.”

 

Because he hasn’t outright denied your request yet, you keep smirking. “Definitely. A million times over, fuck him.”

 

“Christ, what prompted that attitude? I thought you were scared as hell of the guy.”

 

You get into the lane to take the exit, even though he hasn’t officially accepted yet. You’re feeling unnaturally confident. “Whatever. I’ll tell him somethin’ came up. I don’t want to play his stupid games tonight.” You speed up to pass a car going the speed limit and add, “He’s an adult. He doesn’t need me to be his fuckin’ marriage counselor. Divorce counselor. Whatever. There’s other things I’d rather do.”

 

He messes with the air vent, and you swear you can see a ghost of a smile. If you don’t truly see it, you hear it in the way that he answers you. “Well, goddamn. If you’ve got a free afternoon, then I might as well let you buy me the most expensive thing on that place’s menu.”

 

“They have good streak,” you say with a smirk, “as long as your religion permits it.”

 

He replies through a laugh, “Yeah, I think I’ve taken a permanent hiatus from my bullshit fucking Hinduism.”

 

“Hey, Hinduism ain’t all bullshit. I think you owe yourself ten dollars for that one.”

 

“Eh, I think all religions are bullshit. All religions except the cult of eating a shit ton of steak. And Mexican food.”

 

“Not this again,”

 

“Listen, I know you’re white, but Mexican food is just objectively more interesting and delicious than Italian food.” He adds on quickly, “But let’s not have this argument again. I’m just focused on steak now.”

 

“Okay, but just know if you keep bringin’ this topic up you’re goin’ to get punched one of these days.”

 

“It’s well worth it.”

When you take the exit, you’re extremely aware that you are going completely against your father’s wishes for the first time since you told him you were going to pursue a degree in history. You’re loving this five-minute old sense of independence.This sort of rebellion has always pumped you full of adrenaline. What you think excites you more than the rebellion, though, is the fact that you asked Sollux on a date, and he accepted. You realize that the world is a lot bigger than you and your problems, and for once, you decide to revel in your insignificance.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yeah so last chapter! As I said before, I'm getting really busy with school, so the updates would be really slow and inconsistent. Maybe when I'm free around fall break time I'll do a little epilogue/companion fic type thing, but it should be clear by the end of this chapter that there is a happy ending and all. Thank you guys for sticking with me through this! It was fun to write and went on five chapters longer than I expected it to! (I even did the thing with the title at the end ahhh)

CA: hey tell father that im not comin back today

 

CA: i knoww he hates textin

 

CA: wvait danny wvhat the hell

 

CA: wvhy are you cancellin literally a fuckin hour before you wvere supposed to come back you irresponsible jackass

 

CA: wwoww im the irresponsible one thats pretty ironic

 

CA: anyways i forgot i had an exam tonight

 

You look up from your phone to see that Sollux is holding the door open for you, asinine smile plastered onto his face. “What’s all the chivalry for?”

 

He shrugs. “This place looks fancy as fuck. Thought it would fit.”

 

You wave your hand dismissively. “It’s not that fancy. I mean, I’ve been to places way fancier. It’s just expensive.”

 

“Whatever. Fancy equals expensive in my book.” He gestures to the open door again. “After you.”

 

You roll your eyes and step through, just as he prompts. He steps through behind you, but doesn’t stand beside you. He kind of lingers behind, as if he’s never been in a steakhouse before. Before going in, you quickly glance back down at your phone.

 

CA: thats fuckin bullshit youvwe nevwer forgotten about school in your life

 

CA: you just dont wvant to deal wvith dad today

 

CA: no im tellin the truth im in class right noww

 

CA: like hell you are

 

CA: send me a pic of you wvith three fingers up

 

“Having trouble with your dad?”

 

You rub the bridge of your nose and take a deep breath. “No, he doesn’t text. I’m having trouble with my stupid fuckin’ asshole idiot brother who I hate.”

 

Sollux laughs at you, but you can tell he tried to stifle it. “Those are some pretty strong words there. Not strong, I guess, just a lot of them. What’s he doing?”

 

“He doesn’t believe I’m at school and he wants me to send a picture”

 

“Send him an old one.”

 

“No, he wants me to have three fingers up. I don’t have a picture like that.”

 

“Looks like he’s less of an idiot than you gave him credit for,” Sollux teases.

 

“Less of an idiot, more of an asshole.”

 

A group of three women walks past the two of you, and one gives you a strange look. You’re reminded that it’s a little bit weird to stand in the small room in between the front door and the main entrance while having an argument with your date. You feel your phone vibrate once again and mutter, “Oh God.”

 

CA: thats wvhat i thought

 

CA: you cant just run from all your problems danny

 

CA: im not runnin from my problems im runnin from my parents problems that i aint got anythin to do wwith

 

CA: fair point

 

CA: wwhat do you wwant from me

 

CA: like wvhat a bribe

 

CA: i mean wwhatevver it wwill take to keep your big mouth shut about this

 

“God you’re really typing away at that. Let me have at him.”

 

You look at Sollux in near disbelief. “My brother’s a volatile asshole. You don’t want to talk to him.”

 

He raises his eyebrows. “You’re acting like I’ve never dealt with him before. And I won all the fights I had with him.”

 

You look at your phone, then back at Sollux. You close your eyes and thrust the phone into his hands. “Here, just take it. Do your fuckin’ worst.” You sit down on the bench in order to take up less room, and he follows suit. You watch him tap away at the keyboard, smirking here and there, furrowing his brow at other times. It’s like watching him program a virus. It probably looks boring and benign to the people that are entering the restaurant, but to you, it’s the most interesting thing in the world. It’s intoxicating to think that the two of you are in your own little world right now, loosely but undeniably connected to one another, beyond reproach and recognition from the people that pass by you. You think, once again, that being an unknown in such a large crowd of faces is more comforting than it is terrifying, at least for now.

 

“Alright, I dealt with him.”

 

“What?”

 

He waves a hand in front of your face. “Hello? Earth to Ampora? I got your shitty libertarian brother off your ass.”

 

“What did you say to him? He’s a persistent son of a bitch.”

 

“Worry about it later. Let’s get food. I’m fucking starving.”

 

He sees you eyeing your phone, and prompts you again to worry about it later, not that you’re not always worried about something. As eager as he seems to eat, he lets you lead the way into the restaurant, and lets you speak with the hostess. He only opens up again once the two of you are seated in a secluded booth at the corner of the place, menus in hand.

 

“Holy shit,” Sollux mutters, “Even the appetizers at this place cost like fifteen bucks. I could eat for a week on that kind of cash.”

 

You roll your eyes. “No you couldn’t.” Even in the two weeks that you were paying Sollux back, you ate on about 40 dollars a week.

 

“I mean, I’d be eating a shit ton of ramen and easy mac, but the point is that I could manage. Fifteen dollars for stuffed mushrooms is just like flushing money down the drain. I could buy some mushrooms from the grocery store for three dollars.”

 

“Just plain mushrooms? That’s disgustin’.”

 

He shrugs. “I’ve eaten a lot worse before. Shit! This steak is fifty bucks.”

 

“Filet mignon? Yeah. It’s expensive, but it’s worth it. Don’t worry about it.”

 

He puts down the menu, looking slightly distressed. “I know before I joked about getting the most expensive thing on the menu, but I don’t think I can physically bring myself to do that. Up until I was about 15 I thought that Olive Garden was the pinnacle of fancy, so you can imagine how much of a shock this is for me.”

 

You laugh a little bit, even though you don’t mean to. You can’t really help it. You’ve had food from Olive Garden once, maybe twice in your entire life, and you found it to be pretty underwhelming. Of course, you’ve had Italian food in Italy, the pretentious asshole that you are. “What made you change your mind?”

 

“Oh,” he says, picking up the menu again, “I got a girlfriend. She took me to an actual fancy place.” He adds quickly, “This place takes the cake, though.”

 

Suddenly a bit jealous, you respond, “I’m glad I could at least one-up your high school girlfriend.”

 

“Oh, you definitely did, you rich fuck. The steak I got there only cost thirty, and I paid for it myself.”

 

When he says that, you feel better about the situation. “Well, I won’t make you do that, that’s for sure.”

 

A waiter comes by to take your order for drinks. While you both order an iced tea, Sollux is somewhat adamant about the fact that he doesn’t want it sweetened. The waiter assures him that no sugar will find itself into his drink, and goes away as quickly as he came.

 

You shake your head and say, “You were the one telling me how wheat toast ain’t a real breakfast two weeks ago, and you come here just to order bitter-ass tea? You’re a fuckin’ enigma.”

 

“Hey, different situations call for different amounts of sugar. There’s no place for sweet tea with steak.”

 

You shudder at the thought of drinking tea or coffee for that matter without any sugar whatsoever. “You like your coffee black, too?”

 

“Only way to drink it.”

 

Instead of getting into another fight about food in what has so far turned out to be a really nice afternoon, you change the topic. Picking up your phone, you ask once more, “So you sold your soul to my brother or somethin’?”

 

“Eh. Not really.”

 

You give him a strange look. “You can’t ‘not really’ sell a soul to someone. You do or you don’t.”

 

“Just read the texts.”

 

CA: hey what2 up iit2 me 2ollux iif you could ju2t lay off for a miinute and not 2eek per2onal gaiin out of other2 mii2fortune that would be really neat

 

CA: i cant believe danny gavwe his phone to his fuckin commie boyfriend to solvwe his shitty problems that he made for himself

 

CA: no ii ju2t took hii2 phone 2top tryiing two p2ychoanalyze hiim

 

CA: you type like a dick

 

CA: 2o iive been told

 

CA: you knowv i should just tell my dad that dannys skippin school so you guys can fuck

 

CA: alterniitiively you could not do that

 

CA: hm

 

CA: hm what

 

CA: danny said you wvere good computer codin n shit is that actually true

 

CA: what do you mean ii2 iit true of cour2e iit fuckiin ii2

 

CA: yeah just like youre some idiot wvho cant use a fork but can recite pi to the 500th number im sure thats all true

 

CA: so can you do like

 

CA: hackin

 

CA: depend2 on what you want done

 

CA: ive got this ex gf wvho wvas a real bitch to me howv bout you send her a vwirus

 

CA: yeah 2ure

 

CA: glad we could come to an agreement here

 

It’s a little bit alarming to learn that your brother caught on that much of Sollux’s persona was faked just to annoy your parents, but it’s nice to see that he actually believes you guys are together. You are with him right now, after all. You decide that whatever your brother thinks doesn’t actually matter at all. You look back up at Sollux and laugh. “So you’re going to send my brother’s ex a virus? You’re not gonna delete all her files like you did with that other girl? She wasn’t even half bad, Cro’s just incapable of havin’ a normal human relationship.”

 

“I mean, I don’t care what I send her as long as it gets your brother to lie for you. I can send her something that makes her computer run more slowly, though, and that seems ideal. I doubt your brother knows enough about computers to even know the difference between a good virus and a sub-par one. Didn’t you say he dropped out of college because he didn’t want to take math?”

 

“Yeah, that’s exactly what he did.”

 

“Then don’t worry about it. Just tell me when he starts riding your ass about it again and I’ll send her some run of the mill trojan.”

 

Despite the fact that you two are friends now, maybe sort of more than that because you have both mutually acknowledged that this is a date, you feel relieved when he sets up a certain time that you will see each other again. You realize that for some people, it’s probably not a chore to hang out with you. “You’re a fuckin’ life saver.”

 

Before he can respond, the waiter comes by with your drinks, and asks to take your order. While you order a steak that costs about thirty five dollars, you order Sollux the expensive filet mignon before he can protest. Not wanting to make a scene at the restaurant, he silently lets the waiter take your menus and leave.

 

“Well,” you say, matter of factly, “You did say you wanted the most expensive thing on the menu. I’m inclined to follow through on that.”

 

He’s trying to feign anger, but he can’t help smiling. “I said that was a joke, you pompous tool.”

 

“C’mon, I saw you keep flippin’ back to that page. It’s no trouble.” You wonder if he thinks that you’re trying to shove money in his face so he’ll like you better. You’re doing that a little, sure, as has become your habit since your father gave you your own debit card, but you also just want to see him happy. You also want to show up that high school girlfriend really, really badly. You tack on, “My pleasure.”

 

“This is a far cry from the Toledo Olive Garden, that’s for sure.”

 

“You’re damn right.” You say, almost tentatively, “Remind me to show you some good Italian food some time. I bet you’d like it better if you had the real shit.”

 

To your relief, you’re greeted with a smile rather than a grimace at the mention of another date. “Yeah, whatever you say. As long as I get to take you to a Mexican place sometime. I’m not even the rich one, but shit, I’d pay for it.”

 

“Sounds nice.”

 

The two of you pass a half-hour amiably while you wait for the food to come. It’s mostly idle conversation about school and family matters; once in a while you end up making fun of each other a little bit. You can’t help but wonder, with his crazy memory and all, if he’ll end up remembering every bit of the conversation, or if he wants to. Even though you can’t remember everything, you make a point to remember exactly the way he looks when he runs his fingers through his hair, about fifteen minutes into waiting. He looks nice, like he’s let his guard down. You both do.

 

The sense of tranquility fades when the food comes, however.

 

“Jesus fucking hell,” he practically breathes, “this is just like… this is the shit people make on the Food Network. It doesn’t look like a real thing that I’m supposed to eat. In fact, I feel like someone’s going to arrest me if I try to eat it. I’ve got to go, right now, imm-”

 

“Just try it,” you say, already cutting into your food. Yeah, you’ve definitely shown up his stupid old girlfriend.

 

You’re not sure if he looks like he’s dying or ascending to heaven when he actually takes a bite. Either way, you find it endearing.

 

“Good?” you ask.

 

“Fucking… fucking incredible.”

 

“Ah, that’s good. I was afraid it would be sub-pa-”

 

“You knew it would be good, jackass.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

Conversation lulls, mostly because there’s food in front of the two of you. You get a bitter text from Cronus saying that he lied to your father for you, to which you reply with a curt ‘thanks’.

 

“You know,” Sollux says about halfway through eating, “You suck less than a lot of people I’ve met.”

 

“I do?” You say, raising your eyebrows, “Even with all my dumb as shit family issues you’ve had to personally deal with?”

 

“Eh. Makes it interesting.”

 

“Well. You suck a lot less than a lot of other people I’ve met, too. In fact, forgive me for bein’ sappy here, but you actually don’t suck at all.”

 

He smirks and says, “That was pretty damn sappy. It’s like I’m tapping into a maple here, and it’s telling me that I don’t suck and is also buying me an expensive steak.”

 

You smile and continue eating, faced with the knowledge that you’ve fallen pretty hard for this guy who, just a few weeks ago, you thought was the most annoying piece of shit you’d ever met. This realization doesn’t even alarm you. You feel more alright with it than you’ve felt with anything in a long time.

 

For someone who’s ‘always hungry’, Sollux sure needs to take quite a bit of his food home in a box. 

 

“You know,” you tease as the two of you walk out of the restaurant, “I really thought you’d be able to finish that. You know how like, that skinny Japanese guy always beats the fat guy in the the hot dog eatin’ contest? I thought it’d be like that.”

 

He laughs slightly, evidently amused. “You’d be the last person I’d ever expect to make a reference to a hot dog eating contest.”

 

“I mean, it’s not a regular occurrence. I just thought it was fittin’.”

 

“Hm.”

 

The two of you stand by your car for a minute, just stand as if you’re taking in the scenery of the parking lot. You feel a slight breeze through your hair before you hear Sollux say, “You thinking I’m hot- was that like- a real thing? Or one of those things you say when you’re shitfaced?”

 

You open the car and get in the driver’s seat. He sits down promptly after you. “God, not this again.”

 

“No, shit, I’m not making fun of you, ED, I swear. I’m just… curious, I guess.”

 

You look at him to see that he’s looking down, and take that as a sign that he actually isn’t making fun of you. The one time he tends to make consistent eye contact is when he’s trying to be an asshole. “When I was texting you the next mornin’ you told me that bein’ drunk just makes a person more inclined to say shit they were already thinkin’.”

 

“So-”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Yep.”

 

“Alright.”

 

“Yeah.”

 

“God, shut up.”

 

“Wh-” Before you can ask him what the hell he meant by that, he pulls you in for a kiss. Not especially long or especially intimate, but it’s one that you’re sure is not just for show. And all of a sudden, you’re absolutely certain that this chaste and unexpected kiss you had in a parking lot is the best kiss you’ve ever had.

He smirks as you start that car. “No cost.”


End file.
